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SUMMER HOME 

AMONG 

THE ALPS. 



LONDOX 

PlUtfTED BT SPOTTISWOODE A?TD CO. 
NEW-STKEET SQUARE 




aid the C:ra§,s of the Buet 



"THE EAGLE'S NEST " 

IN THE VALLEY OF SIXT; 

SUMMER HOME AMONG THE ALPJ 

TOGETHEE "WITH SOME 

EXCURSIONS AMONG THE GREAT GLACIERS, 




OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, ESQ., EAEKISTEK-AT-LAW ; 
AUTHOB OF * WAJfDEEIXGS AMONG THE HIGH ALPS,' AND ONE OF THE 
COXTEIBETOBS TO ' PEAKS, PASSES, AJCD GLACIEES.' 



A wanderer I : I left my much-lov'd home. 
O'er plain and hill, 'mid ice and snows to roam ; 
Through many a land my wandering feet have stray'd, 
Yet here, at length, content my feet have stay'd." 



SECOND EDITION. 



LONDON 

LONGMAN, GREEN, LONGMAN, AND ROBERTS. 
I860. 



i 



4A 




PREFACE 

TO 

THE SECOND EDITION. 



The pleasant intelligence that a Second Edition of 
this little book was already called for reached me 
during a stay at u The Eagle's Nest," within six 
weeks from its first appearance. The few cor- 
rections, which another visit to the neighbourhood 
would have made me glad to introduce, were so very 
trivial, that I did not think it worth while to delay 
the publication for the sake of them, and this Volume 
is therefore little more than a reprint of the First 
Edition. 

Since the sketches were made from which the 
illustrations were taken, the Chalet has been built, 



PKEFACE TO 



and it is now a conspicuous object in every view of 
which the Plateau des Fonds forms part. One 
plate, therefore, has been cancelled, and the 
view of " The Eagle's Nest," as it appears at 
present, substituted for the former frontispiece. 
Advantage of this opportunity has been taken to 
correct a serious inaccuracy which, by some acci- 
dent, had crept into the original lithograph, despite 
my repeated warnings. The present frontispiece is 
taken from the sketch of an excellent and graceful 
artist, Mr. Alfred Finley, who kindly accompanied 
me on my journey this autumn. 

A word of apology is due for some of the illus- 
trations ; for on comparing two or three of them 
with the actual scenes, I found them less exact than 
I had supposed, and I should not wish the blame 
to fall upon the lithographer, still less upon the 
accomplished lady by whom the original sketches 
were drawn. Several, however, were hastily ex- 
ecuted, and hardly more than outlines of the 
scenery represented. The lithographer had some- 
times to fill up details which were wanting in the 
originals ; my memory was not always to be trusted, 



THE SECOND EDITION, 



and indeed, at the time that most of the pictures 
were being drawn on the stones, I was lying 
dangerously ill, apparently with little hope of re- 
covery, and could not be consulted. The outlines, 
and every part which could be literally rendered 
from the sketches, I found, in the two or three 
views which did not satisfy me*, to be as correct 
as if they had been copied from a photograph ; 
but owing to the circumstances I have mentioned, 
a want of fidelity in the details has arisen in 
the instances specified, which would certainly not 
have existed had it been possible to appeal to the 
author of the sketches themselves. 

In spite of the broken weather of this summer, 
and the unusual prevalence of mist and rain, I 
found that the neighbourhood of Sixt, and espe- 
cially the Vallee des Fonds, appeared to me un- 
questionably more beautiful than ever. If such 
was my experience, when visiting them under 
circumstances peculiarly trying, it is impossible to 

* I refer particularly to the view of the Cascade of the Nant 
Dant, the view of the Fer a Cheval, and that from Champery. 



PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. 



entertain any great fear that those who may be 
induced by my representations to visit the valley 
will think I have overrated its attractions. 

Esher, October 5th, 1860. 



PREFACE 

TO 

THE FIRST EDITION. 



In September 1857, when I was in treaty with the 
good people of Sixt for the purchase of the very 
lovely spot to which some of the following pages 
refer, I promised them that if they would accede to 
my request, and sell me the little plot of communal 
ground I wished for, I would make some endeavour 
to render their beautiful valley better known to the 
travelling world. In private, I have had many op- 
portunities, which I have not neglected, of doing so; 
but it is high time the promise should be redeemed 
in a more ample manner. One motive, therefore, 
for my publishing this Volume is the hope that it 
may do a service to the valley, by inducing some 
who might not otherwise have thought of doing so, 



vm 



PKEFACE, 



to turn aside and visit it, I have been especially 
desirous that the publication should not be longer 
delayed, because the floods of last winter brought 
great sorrow and heavy loss upon many of the in- 
habitants. They wrote to ask me to get up a sub- 
scription for them ; but the name of Sixt is at pre- 
sent so little familiar to English ears, that I felt it 
would be useless to attempt anything of the sort, 
and I replied that instead of asking my countrymen 
for alms, I would try and persuade some of them to 
give those who had suffered by the inundations the 
opportunity of earning the relief of which they stand 
in need. 

I am not sorry for the three years' interval be- 
tween the promise and its execution. The beauty 
of the valley seemed to me so remarkable, that I 
distrusted at first my own impressions and recollec- 
tions, and it was not without a lurking anticipation 
of disappointment, that I returned thither in 1858, 
accompanied, this time, by my wife, to whom I had 
frequently expressed, in no measured terms, my esti- 
mate of the scenery she was about to see. When, 
however, I remember that her highly raised expecta- 



PREFACE. 



IX 



tions were surpassed by the reality ; that day by day 
we discovered hew and increasing charms in the 
neighbourhood ; that ever since, the Valley of Sixt 
has held its place in our memories, after dispassionate 
retrospect, as the most attractive of the many scenes 
of beauty we have visited, I can no longer en- 
tertain the fear that the natural interest attaching 
to a hobby has created in my mind impressions 
which will not be ratified by the soberer judgment 
of others. 

The illustrations are all but one from my wife's 
sketches, aided now and then by photographs of my 
own. They are, I believe, quite faithful, though 
they want the last touches of her ready pencil, the 
last corrections of her tenacious memory. This 
Volume is, alas ! in memoriam. It was planned out 
last year, and a small portion executed, by us both, 
as a joint production, and this spring we were think- 
ing seriously of proceeding further with it, when 
this project was put an end to by one of those mys- 
terious dispensations of Providence which try the 
courage of the stoutest heart. I had been hastily 
summoned into the country by the unexpected 



X 



PREFACE. 



death of my father, and, on my return to London, 
after the last rites had been paid to him, I 
was met by the startling intelligence that my 
wife also was no more. A disease so secret, so 
insidious, that its very existence had escaped the 
anxious affection of friends, and eluded the ex- 
perienced vigilance of a most accomplished medical 
man, had silently reached its climax, and suddenly 
arrested the mysterious current of life ; and without 
time for one farewell, the gentlest and most graceful 
spirit that ever was the light and the pride of a 
happy home, had passed from earth. 

This little work has had, therefore, a peculiar and 
mournful interest to me. I should be glad indeed, 
if I could think that its perusal might ever with 
another, as its preparation has done with myself, 
make an hour of sorrow flit more lightly by. If it 
should not do that, it may yet perhaps be the means 
of inducing some reader or another to visit scenes, 
the memory of which may one day help him to 
bear cheerfully and gently the trials of life. These 
pages will not have been written in vain, if he should 
then be able to say, with one who knew Nature 



PREFACE. 



XI 



well, and whose pure and noble spirit turned that 
knowledge to the best account: — 

" These beauteous forms 
Through a long absence have not been to me 
As is a landscape to a blind man's eye : 
But oft in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din 
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them, 
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, 
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart ; 
And passing even into my purer mind 
With tranquil restoration ; feelings too 

Of unremembered pleasure 

Nor less, I trust, 

To them I may have owed another gift 
Of aspect more sublime ; that blessed mood, 
In which the burthen and the mystery, 
In which the heavy and the weary weight 
Of all this unintelligible world 
Is lightened," * 



Esher ; July 2Gth, 1860. 



* Wordsworth. 



NOTE. 



The little sketch-map, intended to show the position of the 
Valley of Sixt, relatively to the neighbouring districts, is 
reduced from the Sardinian Government map ; the more 
detailed map of the immediate neighbourhood of Sixt is 
slightly enlarged from the same original. The Government 
map is executed in a most elaborate style, but I must say 
that I am quite unable to reconcile a great deal of it with 
my own personal knowledge of the district. The charac- 
terestic form of the ridge of the Fer a Cheval, for instance, 
is absolutely wanting ; the Pointe de Salles is kept much 
too far back from the Giffre, and that part of the track to 
the Col d'Anterne which lies beneath its highest precipices, 
seems to me quite incorrectly given. These are but in- 
stances : one speaks, of course, with a certain degree of 
hesitation, when backing one's own recollections and im- 
pressions against a work authenticated by the stamp of the 
Eoyal Staff Corps of Sardinia ; but I am unable to help 
the opinion I have formed, which is, that for all matters of 
nicety and accurate detail, it is, as to this part at least, 



XIV 



NOTE. 



utterly unreliable. The very remarkable mountain called 
the Pic de Tinneverges is not even named in it, and Bal- 
mat has several times remarked to me upon the want of 
exactness of which I complain. Still I have not ventured 
to alter it on the authority of my memory alone, and in- 
deed a severe attack of illness, which confined me to my 
bed at the time when it was necessary for the engraver to 
begin his work, would have made it difficult for me to do 
so had I wished it. All that I can do, therefore, is to warn 
the reader against trusting to it, and to say, that if any of 
my descriptions should be at variance with its representa- 
tions, I do not admit the map as a conclusive authority 
against me. A great number of the less important names 
in the original have been purposely omitted, as they 
would have served only to produce confusion. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE VALLEY OF THE GIFFRE, FROM TANNINGES TO SIXT. 

Situation of Sixt. — The Road from Bonneville. — First Sight of the 
Valley. — Its Richness. — Samoens. — The " Croix d'Or." — Excur- 
sions in the Neighbourhood. — The Road to Sixt. — Gorge of Les 
Tines. — Pointe de Salles. — Sixt. — The Hotel. — Marie. — La 
" Cuisine Moccand " Page 1 

CHAP. II. 

THE FEE A CHEVAL, THE FOND DE LA COMBE, AND THE 
FATE OF JACQUES BALMAT. 

The Pic de Tinneverges. — The Eer a Cheval. — The Fond de la 
Combe. — A Tragical Incident. — Disappearance of Jacques Bal- 
mat. — A Revelation. — The Hunter taken off his Guard. — Motives 
of the Syndic. — The Chalets of Boret. — Caterpillars' Paradise. — 
Landslips of the Tete Noire. — The Vaudru . . . .30 

CHAP. ILL 

THE LAC DE GERS. 

Situation of the Lake.— Beautiful Ascent. — Moccand kept in order. 
— Exquisite Wood Walk. — View from the Gieta. — Neglect of 



xvi 



CONTENTS. 



Wild Fruits among the Alps. — A dreary Scene. — The Lake — 
The Montagne de Gers. — A Picture for the Stereoscope. — The 
Descent. — Remarks Page 52 

CHAP. IV. 

THE VALLEE DES FONDS AND THE " EAGLE'S NEST." 

Course of theHaut Giffre. — Salvagny. — The Pointe de Salles. — "Le 
Rouget " and "La Pleureuse." — Luxuriant Vegetation. — La 
Croix d'Esperit. —Curious Stratification. — Falls of " Les J oubas." 

— The Path of the Avalanche. — Precipices of the Buet. — Les 
Fonds. — Magnificent View from the Plateau. — Love at first 
Sight. — Management of Communal Affairs. — Proposal to Pur- 
chase. — Opposition of the Cure. — Position of the Priests in Sar- 
dinia. — Difficulties started. — The Opposition Party the stronger. 

— Count d'Elia. — A second Deliberation and a casting Vote. — 
The Count insulted. — Memorials and Counter-memorials. — The 
Royal Assent obtained. — Monsieur de Bergoens. — Our Visit in 
1858. — Deputations. — A Serenade. — Salutes fired. — Hospitalities. 

— Generous Behaviour of all Parties, — The " Eagle's Nest " 
named. — The Chalet planned. — Our Neighbours and their Cor- 
diality . . .72 

CHAP. V. 

THE BUET. 

Ascent from Chamouni. — ■ The Cascade Berard. — The " Pierre 
Berard." — Rough Quarters. — An unexpected Meeting. — How we 
passed the Night and how the Guides passed the Night — Deep 
Strise. — Daybreak on Mont Blanc. — The Summit. — Sea of 
Clouds. — Descent to Sixt. — A wonderful Amphitheatre. — The 
Chamois.— First Impressions of the Plateau des Fonds. — Ascent 
from Sixt. — View from the Col de l'Echaud. — Severe Attack of 
Illness. — A Dilemma. — Forward! — The distant Cattle-bells. — 
Deep Snow. — The Chalet Berard reached — A close Bargain. — 
A simple Cure . .124 



CONTENTS. 



xvii 



CHAP. VI. 

THE APPROACHES TO SIXT. 

Carriage Roads from Bonneville, Geneva, and Cluses. — The Col 
d'Anterne, from Servoz to Sixt. — Passage across the Breven to 
Chamouni. — Prom the Plateau d'Anterne to Les Fonds, by the 
Chemin des Grasses Chevres. — The Colde l'Echaud. — From the 
Valley of the Rhone to Samoens, by the Cols de Coux and De 
Goleze. — Beauty of Champery. — The Col de Sageroux. — Pas- 
sages to St. Maurice and Martigny .... Page 162 

CHAP. VII. 

THE FOSSILS OF MOED. 

From Servoz to Moed. — Les Eboulements. — The Val Dioza. — 
Moed. — The Fossil Bed. — A Storm on the Mountains. — A 
narrow Escape. — An Incident of the Storm on the Mer de Glace* 

— Second Visit to Moed. — From Cluses to Sixt. — Les Fonds in 
the Morning. — Chemin des Grasses Chevres. — Fossil Teeth. — 
Rendezvous at Moed. — Interior of a Chalet. — How we passed the 
Night. — Sunrise. — Our Cook. — A second Night in the Chalet. — 
Description of the Fossils. — Springing a Mine. — Descent to the 
Dioza. — Ascent of the Breven. — A cool Path. — A Toilette on the 
Snow. — Chamouni . .177 

CHAP. VIII. 

BAD WEATHER ON MONT BLANC. 

Possible Dangers of bad Weather. — Balmat's proposed Experiment. 

— Dr. TyndalPs Assistance. — Opposition of the chief Guide. — 
Appeal to the Intendant. — Gorgeous Sunset at the Glands 
Mulets. — The Corridor. — The Mist comes on — Summit of Mont 
Blanc. — Burying the Thermometer. — Intense Cold. — Appearance 
of our Party, — Balmat's Hands frost-bitten. — His Sufferings, — 

a 



xviii 



CONTENTS. 



Descent of the Mur Consideration of the Porters. — Sudden 

Change of Weather. — State of Balmat's Hands. — Fate of the 
Thermometer ........ Page 221 



CHAP. IX. 

THE COL d'eRIN. 

The Glacier du Tour. — Sion. — Val d'Erin. — Curious Pyramidal 
Formations. — Evolena. — Unpromising Prospects. — A "Walk in 
the Dark. — Glacier de Ferpecle. — Advance of the Glacier. — Dirt 
Bands. — Chalets d'Abricolla. — Dangerous Passage. — The Motta 
Rotta — The Col. — Striking View of the Matterhorn. — Measure- 
ments of Height. — Passing a Bergschrund. — The Stockhi. — 
Glacier of Zmutt. — Remarkable Sounds. — Beautiful Descent to 
Zermatt ,247 



CHAP. X. 

ASCENT OF MONTE EOSA. 

Supposed Inaccessibility. — The Schlagintweits. — Messrs. Smyth. — 
Topography of Monte Rosa. — An old Friend. — Coffee and Quar- 
rels. — A sadder and a wiser Man. — The Comet. — The Gornergrat. 
— The Gorner Glacier. — Appearance of Monte Rosa. — Ascent of 
the " Saddle." — Our first Halt. — A terrible "Wind. — A narrow 
Ridge. — The Hochste Spitze. — Grand Panorama, — The Nord 

End Spitze. — Height of the "Saddle," — Magnificent Crevasses 

Fatiguing Descent. — A pleasant Meeting. — The Riffelberg 288 



BISECTIONS TO THE BINDER. 



Maps. 

Sketch Map to face page 1 

* Map of the Valley of Sixt 218 

Lithographs. 

View of the Plateau des Fonds and the Eagle's Nest . Frontispiece. 
Cascade of the "Nant Dant " ■ . . . .to face page 13 

' The Pic de Tinneverges 24 

^The Fer a Cheval . . . ' .' . . . . . 32 

^Sixt and the Gieta . 55 

✓''The Pointe de Salles ........ 82 

'"View from the Eagle's Nest, looking towards the Buet . . 93 
y View from the Eagle's Nest, looking down the Valley . .119 

y The Aiguilles Rouges 126 

' From the Bridge above the Cascade Berard . . . .157 

View from Champery 172 

Monte Rosa 303 



"THE EAGLE'S NEST" 

ETC. 



CHAPTER I. 

" Among steep hills, in woods embosomed, flows 
A copious stream, with boldly winding course, 
Here traceable, there hidden, there again 
To sight restored, and glittering in the sun. 
On the stream's bank and everywhere appeared 
Fair dwellings, single or in social knots, 
Some scattered o'er the level, others perched 
On the hill sides, a cheerful quiet scene." 

Words worth. 

" All that creation's varying mass assumes 
Of grand and lovely here aspires and blooms ; 
Bold rise the mountains, rich the gardens glow." 

Moore. 

THE VALLEY OF THE GIFFRE, FEOM TANNINGES TO SIXT. 

SITUATION OF SIXT. — THE ROAD FROM BONNEVILLE. — FIRST SIGHT 
OF THE VALLEY. — ITS RICHNESS. — SAMOENS. — THE " CROIX D'OR." 
— EXCURSIONS IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. — THE ROAD TO SIXT. — 
GORGE OF LES TINES. — POINTE DE SALLES. — SIXT. — THE HOTEL. — 
MARIE. — LA " CUISINE MOCCAND." 



The valley of Sixt has been so little visited, that 
to very many persons who have travelled amongst 



2 



THE VALLEY OF SIXT. 



the Alps, its very name and situation are unknown. 
Yet from Geneva it is easier of access than the 
valley of Chamouni; it may be reached in one 
day from Chamouni or from the valley of the 
Rhone, and its attractions are second to those of 
no Alpine valley I have seen. I had always heard it 
spoken of as a place where there were a great many 
waterfalls, — a sort of faint praise which seemed 
to imply that there was not much else to recom- 
mend it. It was therefore with something of the 
pleasant surprise of a new discovery, that when 
chance took me into the valley, I found it so beau- 
tiful that thenceforward I hardly knew how to keep 
away from it. I first went to Sixt in August 1857, 
and I returned thither twice that year. In 1858 I 
went abroad again, accompanied by my wife, who 
had not been with me the previous year. She was 
no less delighted than I had been with the scenery, 
and we spent nearly three weeks there during the 
autumn. We paid two visits to the valley, the one 
before, and the other after, a month's ramble amongst 
the greatest and grandest scenery of Savoy and 
Switzerland ; but the attractions of Sixt remained 
paramount in our minds, even amidst the exciting 
scenery of the great glacier world. There is a 
large class of travellers who, I dare say, would 



SITUATION OF SIXT. 



3 



hardly be able to understand this preference, as the 
number of definite and recognised excursions in the 
neighbourhood of Sixt is limited; but it was our 
delight to make ourselves thoroughly acquainted 
with every nook and corner — to spend day after 
day quietly loitering about, now in one part of the 
valley , now in another, sketching, photographing, 
and botanising — to wander hither and thither as 
fancy dictated, and not to think that a certain num- 
ber of miles must be accomplished every day ; and 
we left the valley with the feeling that we did not 
half know it yet, and that there was plenty of un- 
explored ground left for future summers. 

The little village of Sixt, from which the valley 
takes its name, lies at the base of the northern spurs 
of the Buet. It is nearly due north of Chamouni, 
and across two ranges of mountains, the Breven 
and the next chain behind the Breven, the Chaine 
des Fys, a mountain chain of great wildness and 
rugged grandeur, of which the extreme point to the 
west is familiar to every traveller to the valley of 
Chamouni as the Aiguille de Varens, the precipitous 
peak towering just above St. Martin. Sixt may be 
approached from Chamouni by a straight cut over 
these intervening ridges, practicable only for pedes- 
trians, or by a mule-path which leaves the high road 

B 2 



4 



CARRIAGE-ROADS TO SIXT. 



half-way between Chamouni and Sallenches. From 
Geneva there is an excellent carriage-road, passing 
through Bonneville, where it diverges from the road 
to Chamouni. The Chamouni road crosses the 
River Arve, the road to Sixt keeps along its right 
bank. Every one who has been from Bonneville to 
Cliises, will remember that between those two places 
the Arve flows in a valley often several miles wide, 
inclosed between two parallel ranges of mountains ; 
those on the right of the traveller to Chamouni 
being steep and lofty, those on the opposite or 
eastern side of the valley being lower, more culti- 
vated, and in many parts luxuriantly wooded. The 
valley of Sixt lies behind this eastern boundary of 
the valley of the Arve, and the road from Bonne- 
ville to Sixt crosses the range nearly opposite to 
Cluses. There is a second carriage-route from 
Geneva to Sixt, which quits the Bonneville road at 
Annemasse, and forking off to the left passes be- 
hind the range of mountains which lie to the left of 
the traveller on his way from Annemasse to Bonne- 
ville, and culminate in the conical summit of the Mole, 
just above Bonneville. It is considerably shorter 
than the road through Bonneville, but at present it is 
not in a good state. When I was last at Sixt, a project 
was on foot for putting it in order : if that be ever 
done, the time of transit from Geneva to Sixt will 



COURSE OF THE GIFFRE. 



5 



be abridged by some two hours, and. Sixt will be 
brought within little more than half a day's journey 
from Geneva. At present, by way of Bonneville, 
with a carriage and pair, about ten or twelve hours 
are needed for the journey. It is not so*far as from 
Geneva to Chamouni, but the diligence service is 
very slowly and indifferently performed, and of course 
a carriage with one pair of horses cannot travel with 
anything like the speed of a diligence, which has 
successive relays to depend upon. I shall now ask 
the reader to start with me from Bonneville, and. 
accompany me along the road by the eastern or right 
bank of the Arve. 

About five miles above Bonneville, the Giffre, the 
stream which belongs to the valley of Sixt, effects its 
junction with the Arve ; in its own proper valley it 
flows nearly parallel with this part of the Arve ; but 
having found a convenient gap in the mountain range 
that has long formed its boundary, just at the east- 
ern base of the Mole, it has seized the opportunity, 
turned sharply to the left, and escaped through the 
unguarded opening, to swell the flood of the Arve. 
The road leaves the point of junction to the right, 
and traversing the flat ground at the base of the 
Mole, crosses the Giffre a mile or two above the 
junction of the two streams at a little village called 

B 3 



6 



FIEST SIGHT OF THE VALLEY. 



Marignier. It then hugs the base of the hills which 
form the eastern boundary of the valley of the Arve, 
and makes for the spot where they are most easily 
crossed, a depression in the range nearly opposite 
the village of Cruses, on the Chamouni road. There 
is here a long and steep ascent, up which it is often 
pleasant to walk ; for the road is well shaded, pass- 
ing- between rows of fruit-trees which overhang the 
road, and amongst fertile fields sprinkled with chalets. 
The view across the valley is most striking, as you 
look up the splendid ravine towards Sallenches, with 
the village of Cluses sparkling at its entrance, and 
some of the snowy spurs of Mont Blanc towering 
above in the distance. 

At length you fairly turn your back upon Cluses 
and the Chamouni road, and after winding by two 
or three shady zigzags past the picturesque old 
castle of Chatillon, the road is carried for a few hun- 
dred yards over the table land forming the lowest 
point in the ridge. Presently you come to a row of 
sturdy, weather-beaten beeches, casting a deep and 
refreshing shade upon the road, and find j^ourself 
at the entrance of what seems like another world. 
A wide and fertile valley lies almost beneath your 
feet, shut in on each side by mountain ranges which, 
anywhere but among the Alps, would be called lofty. 



A SMILING PROSPECT. 



7 



They present an exquisite combination of grandeur 
and of softer beauty. Clothed to a great height 
with woods, in which the dark foliage of fir and pine 
is pleasantly relieved by the brighter green of the 
beech, they afford conclusive evidence that the severi- 
ties of an Alpine climate do not visit even their 
highest portions ; but they often break away into 
abrupt faces of rock, of no inconsiderable height, or 
are crowned by rugged peaks of a bold and precipi- 
tous character. Bright slopes of lawn-like pasture 
mingle with the darker green of the forest trees, and 
dispute with them the possession of the mountain 
sides. Numerous chalets, of a better order than 
usual, nestle beneath the shelter of the woods, or are 
dotted about the upland meadows. In the centre of 
the valley the Giffre pours down its discoloured 
stream, the drainage of the glaciers of the Buet and 
of the Pic de Tinneverges. At no great distance 
from where you stand, the prosperous little town of 
Tanninges sparkles in the sunlight, and nearer still 
stands a great block of dingy building by the river 
side, surrounded by an immense walled garden, 
formerly the Jesuits' College. 

The plain through which the Giffre threads its 
way is still more rich and verdant than the moun- 
tain chains that bound it ; it is thickly studded with 

B 4 



8 



THE BUET. 



orchards and corn-fields, and is characterised by a 
general appearance of uncommon comfort and pros- 
perity. At the head of this beautiful valley, the 
eye and the mind are alike arrested by the great 
crags and extended snows of the Buet, which seem 
to say that in this direction at least nature has done 
her best, by denying the means of egress, to complete 
the resemblance of the scene to the " Happy 
Valley." 

The road winds down from the top of the hill by 
several zigzags. The traveller on foot will pro- 
bably take a short cut or two across the swampy 
hedgeless fields, and thus arrive more quickly at the 
foot of the descent, where a stone bridge spans the 
dirty waters of the Giffre. If he knows his way, 
he will now desert the road which leads across the 
little plain to the village of Tanninges, and turning 
sharply to the right, between a little inn and the 
river, will follow a footpath running beside the long 
and lofty wall of the convent garden, and emerging 
on to the green fields half a mile or more beyond 
the village. A mile at the very least is gained by 
this short cut. On reaching the end of the convent 
garden wall, you can either turn to the left and re- 
join the road at once, or if the weather be dry, you 
can keep to the fields for some time longer. There 



THE VALLEY OF THE GIFFRE. 



9 



is no fear of doing any damage in the autumn. The 
hay crop has been got in, and the inhabitants of the 
valley are pleasant and obliging to strangers. The 
only attack likely to be made is from one of the nu- 
merous and ill-conditioned curs that abound here, 
as throughout Switzerland and Sardinia, to whom a 
liberal allowance of alpen-stock would be of no 
small service. 

The road is now thickly lined with apple, pear, 
and walnut trees, which yield a welcome shade from 
the noonday sun. The valley is hot, as the richness 
of the flora, the greenness of the hills on either 
hand, the vigorous growth of trees and fruits, and 
the abundance of butterflies and lizards attest. The 
mountain ranges which flank the valley present 
scenes of rare pastoral beauty. Fertile upland 
farms, dotted with substantial homesteads, and 
guarded by vast variegated woods, not of fir and pine, 
but of all sorts of forest trees, as varied as those 
which clothe the beautiful steeps of Norbury Park, 
or deck the princely slopes of Chevening, rise just 
above the plain, and are crowned by broad tracts of 
the richest mountain pasture land, vying in depth 
of green with the most favoured spots in the Sim- 
menthal, or the still richer valley of Champery. As 
you ascend the valley, the mountains close in on 



10 



APPROACH TO SAMOENS. 



either hand, the trees are finer still, the forests more 
extensive, the grass greener, the signs of rustic 
wealth and prosperity greater. There is but one 
dull stretch of road — where a straggling pine wood, 
covering an extensive swamp, interferes with the 
enjoyment of the prospect, and here the barberry 
grows in profusion by the road side, and the eye is 
distracted from the monotony of the pine wood by 
the singular beauty of the delicate clusters of bright 
scarlet berries. 

Some two or three hours after leaving Tanninges, 
the scenery, while preserving the same general cha- 
racter as that already described, attains perhaps its 
greatest beauty. The spurs of the mountain chain 
on the left advance their wooded bases somewhat 
into the plain. Mingled with the leafy glories of the 
ancient forests are broad patches of well-cultivated 
land, or trim and closely shaven meadow slopes, 
looking at a little distance like English lawns, and 
ornamented with picturesque chalets or substantial 
farm buildings. One conspicuous knoll is crowned 
by the tapering spire of - a time-honoured chapel. 
At the foot of this knoll lies the thriving little town 
of Samoens, a large straggling assemblage of well- 
built houses, in the midst of a rich tract of orchards, 
pasture grounds, and farm lands, stretching for half 



SAMOENS. 



11 



a mile or a little more from the town to the river, 
which runs just beneath the base of the mountain 
range on the right, — a range, perhaps, still richer 
and more productive than its opposite eastern rival, 
and giving birth, at a short distance from the village, 
to a foaming waterfall of no common gracefulness 
and beauty. On every hand are the signs of wealth 
and comfort. No squalid buildings meet the eye, 
no stunted forms whose cowering aspect speaks of 
want and misery. The men are a fine, broad-shoul- 
dered race ; the women strong and healthy, and 
though in middle life tanned and disfigured by field- 
work, are, when young, particularly comely and 
pleasing both in face and manners. The children 
are for the most part hearty and well clad, and their 
parents would be ashamed to permit them to indulge 
in the mendicancy and extortion so familiar to the 
traveller on the road to Chamouni. The village 
boasts a is place," or little square, one side of which 
is occupied by the church, and in the middle of 
which grows a magnificent and patriarchal linden- 
tree — the Palladium of Samoens, as the judge of 
the district informed me — an object of singular 
affection and respect to the inhabitants. When they 
quit the village for any length of time, or return to 
it after any considerable absence, they salute the 



12 



THE "CROIX D'OR. 



tree, and when any of them emigrate or travel into 
distant parts, it rarely happens that they do not 
carry with them a few of its leaves, which are 
religiously and affectionately preserved as mementos 
of the dear old country. 

Let me not omit to mention one important feature 
of Samoens. It possesses a homely but comfort- 
able hotel, kept by worthy and honest people. The 
" Croix d'Or " is an excellent specimen of an 
unsophisticated country inn, and the landlord, 
M. Pellet, is an intelligent, kind, and attentive host. 
They can make up from fifteen to twenty beds, and 
when I last was there, were preparing to increase 
the accommodation. There is no style or luxury 
about the place. The landlord and his family per- 
form nearly all the service of the establishment, but 
the beds are scrupulously clean, the fare is abun- 
dant though plain, the cookery simple and whole- 
some, and the charges moderate. The situation of 
the hotel is very pleasing, some of the windows 
looking up a fine opening in the eastern chain, 
guarded by magnificent cliffs of naked rock, by 
which a beautiful passage leads to Champery and 
the valley of the Rhone ; others commanding most 
attractive views of the little plain of the Giffre, of 
the green slopes, wooded hills, and comfortable cha- 



SAMOENS. 



13 



lets on the opposite side of the stream, of the noble 
cascade of the Nant Dant, and of the fine group of 
the Buet and his subsidiary mountains at the head 
of the valley. A balcony, running round two sides 
of the house, in which I have often taken my tea, 
is an excellent place from which to watch the glories 
flung by the setting sun over this charming scene. 

Samoens is a place where I have always regretted 
my inability to spend one or two days at least, and 
devote them to exploring the neighbourhood. The 
few short walks I have had the opportunity of 
taking on both sides of the valley have given me a 
very high impression of the beauty of the district, 
which is better known to the Genevese than to our 
countrymen, for I was told that several of the 
pretty chalets I observed crowning some of the most 
picturesque eminences were little country houses 
belonging to Genevese gentlemen. 

Nearly opposite to Samoens is a covered bridge 
over the GifFre. It is approached through a deep 
fir-wood, carpeted with the richest undergrowth of 
moss. Crossing the bridge and turning to the left 
up the course of the stream, you pass beneath a most 
noble grove of pine-trees. The path, rising and 
falling gently, leads beyond the fir-wood and through 
open fields, across a soft green sward., and again 



14 



THE NANT DANT. 



enters a fine wood, principally of beecli and fir. The 
increasing thunder of a body of water falling from a 
great height warns you that you are not far from 
the cascade you saw from the inn ; but it scarcely 
prepares you for the magnificent fall you behold 
when a few minutes' climb brings you to the skirts 
of the wood, and shows you the stream pouring over 
a ledge some seven or eight hundred feet above you, 
and bounding with one leap into a rocky basin at 
the foot of the precipice. The roar and spray of the 
water, the secluded character of the spot, the abrupt- 
ness of the cliffs on every hand, the richness of the 
woods that cling to every ledge on which a patch 
of mould can rest, can hardly fail to produce a deep 
impression on the most careless spectator. ' To be- 
hold the scene as my wife and I did in the autumn 
of 1858, by the ruddy glow of a gorgeous sunset, 
when every object on the opposite side of the valley 
on which the sunbeams fell was flooded with crimson 
light, and all nature seemed on fire except the dank, 
secluded hollow where we stood, is a chance which, 
must fall to the lot of comparatively few. Well 
might our companion, M. Bergoens, the excellent 
and accomplished Intendant of the district, be proud 
of his native valley, as he pointed out to us its 
beauties under circumstances which so much en- 
hanced the attractions of even the valley of Sixt. 



NEIGHBOURHOOD OF SAMOENS. 15 

An equally beautiful walk, starting likewise 
from the bridge and following for a while the same 
path, leads up the mountain side, through belts of 
magnificent trees and across well-kept strips of grass 
land, to the top of the cascade. Here, as lower down 
the valley, one cannot fail to be struck with the 
variety of trees in the wood. Indeed, this is the 
great characteristic of this district. Generally 
amongst the Alps there is such a predominance 
of the fir tribe, that one often thinks of an Alpine 
wood as a synonym for a pine forest, but throughout 
this district it is far otherwise. The beech, the 
birch, the elm, the walnut, the ash, freely mingle 
their foliage with the darker green of the fir, or the 
fresh emerald of the larch. In this particular spot 
the fine growth of the trees is as remarkable as the 
picturesque and varied aspect of the wood. When 
I passed through it I was accompanied by my friend 
Auguste Balmat, who, like myself, visited it for the 
first time, and he told me then he thought he had 
seen nothing like it among the Alps; every stem 
was so tall and straight, and well-grown on every 
side. I remember particularly his admiration of the 
young fir-trees, which he thought would make 
alpen-stocks of matchless quality. Above the top 
of the fall we came upon orchards, and upon arable 
and pasture land of excellent quality and great ex- 



16 



A CHEAP DESSERT. 



tent. There was an ample stock of fruit-trees laden 
with autumnal produce ; cows and goats were feeding 
about, and all the signs of agricultural industry dis- 
played. We got glimpses of pastoral valleys leading 
high up towards the mountain tops, and offering 
scenes of great beauty, which it would be well worth 
while thoroughly to explore. The quantities of wild 
fruits, strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, and 
bilberries, that were growing on the mountain side 
were astonishing. We could pick them at every 
step ; and M. Pellet's son, who was with us, bought 
a large basketful containing two or three quarts of 
fruit, some of which embellished the array of my 
evening meal, for four sous. He made no secret of 
the price, and I found no notice of the addition to 
my tea in the bill. Elsewhere, I should never have 
heard what was paid for them, but I should cer- 
tainly have found out that they were not to be had for 
nothing at an inn. The view from this point is very 
attractive indeed, embracing nearly the whole extent 
of the valley from a little below Sixt, past Samoens, 
and down to far below Tanninges. Immediately 
opposite is the fine opening towards the Col de 
Goleze, partaking of the same character of rich pas- 
toral beauty. The mountain which flanks it on the 
right is of remarkable aspect. Its outline rises in a 



NEIGHBOURHOOD OF SAMOENS. 



17 



graceful sweep, like a surging wave, to its highest 
point, where it ends abruptly in a vast precipice of 
many thousand feet, towering in rugged majesty 
above the commencement of the pass. The woods, 
chiefly of dark fir, reacli to a great height along its 
side, and are crowned by pasturage somewhat 
scantier than is usual here. -r It is said that this upper 
portion abounds in fossil animal remains, chiefly of 
belemnites and ammonites, but I have not yet been 
able to explore it for myself. 

The earlier part of the passage of the Goleze forms 
a pleasant stroll from Samoens. The morning after 
I had visited the foot of the cascade of the Nant Dant, 
I walked up it for two or three miles before the sun 
was well risen, and while the heavy dew of a clear 
August morning lay upon the ground, and transformed 
every blade of grass into a row of sparkling brilliants. 
"When I was obliged reluctantly to turn back, I was 
more than ever struck with the beauty of the oppo- 
site side of the valley, of which I saw now small 
portions only displayed amidst a foreground of rocks 
and trees. The knoll on which the little chapel 
stands, is also a very fine point of view ; and, in 
fact, it is hardly possible to go wrong in any direc- 
tion from Samoens. 

Perhaps, however, the most interesting walk or 
c 



18 



LES TINES. 



drive of all is that along the main road, leading to 
Sixt. The scenery becomes still finer as you ascend 
the valley. The mountain ranges approach nearer 
to the stream, and are more precipitous and craggy 
than they were. The road, which has long left the 
river nearly half a mile on the right, is now forced 
close to it, and at length the impetuous torrent is 
rushing wildly by, within a few feet of the road. 
At this point, — about half an hour's drive above 
Samoens, — a remarkable interruption occurs to the 
generally uniform slope of the valley, which has 
been gently, if not imperceptibly, rising all the way 
from Tanninges. A great hill of dark slaty rock rises 
abruptly to a height of several hundred feet, block- 
ing up the whole of the valley. There is but little 
mould upon most of the rocky surface — only enough 
to support a scanty growth of underwood — and the 
stream is lost in a narrow cleft, not many yards 
wide, and, perhaps, a hundred and fifty feet deep. 
A little "station" — as the diminutive wayside 
shrines are called — decorated with a tawdry image 
of the Virgin, and held in great esteem by the neigh- 
bourhood, marks the highest spot attained by the 
road, which ascends by steep and ill-made zigzags. 
Here a few beeches on the right fairly overhang the 
river, and by clinging to their trunks you may drop a 



LES TIKES. 



19 



stone, which will fall through a sombre, sunless chasm, 
damp with the spray of the fretting stream, and will 
not reach the surface of the water till after an inter- 
val of several seconds. The rock is curiously worn 
and rounded, as if by the action of water ; and a 
little plain beyond has the appearance of an alluvial 
deposit. The opposite side of the dark rift through 
which the torrent chafes on its wilful way, is perfectly 
smooth and polished, and it would seem as if the 
stream had gradually cut its way down through the 
opposing barrier, till it had sunk to its present level. 
If this be really so, a great lake must once have 
existed behind the rocky eminence, the level of 
which must have gradually sunk in the course of 
ages, till it finally disappeared, and left the rich 
plain below Sixt in its place. This deep water- 
worn channel of the torrent affords no bad illustra- 
tion of the vast periods — periods which the boldest 
imagination can hardly grasp — which countless geo- 
logical phenomena teach us must have elapsed to 
work the changes that have taken place in the crust 
of our globe. 

After passing this spot (which bears the same 
name as a place near Chamouni, having some little 
resemblance to it, Les Tines), the road descends 
rapidly till it regains the level of the stream. Here 

C 2 



20 



APPROACH TO SIXT. 



a scene of fresh interest is disclosed. The river that 
pours through the narrow gorge of Les Tines car- 
ries the united waters of two streams, the Upper and 
the Lower Giffre, which have their confluence a 
short distance above Les Tines, and enclose between 
their channels the rich alluvial plain above mentioned 
—a sort of inverted delta, the base of which is 
formed by the lowest part of the mountain group 
dividing the two arms of the river. The little village 
of Sixt is situated on the left-hand confluent — the 
Bas Giffre ; but though at the distance of only a 
short quarter of an hour's drive, it is effectually con- 
cealed by a turn in the road, which, keeping close to 
the river, takes a sudden bend round the end of the 
mountain chain on the left, and pursues a direction 
nearly at right angles to its former course. In this 
direction, therefore, the prospect is limited, but on 
the right is presented a magnificent view of the 
gorge of the Upper Giffre. This torrent descends 
from the very heart of the Buet, and sweeping round 
the western base of the mountain group in front of 
the spectator, passes at the foot of some of the 
noblest precipices in the Alps. One glorious peak, 
which forms the great feature of this view, as of 
almost every other in the neighbourhood, now comes 
in sight for the first time ; and the most experi- 



THE POINTE DE SALLES. 21 

enced Alpine traveller might rack his memory in 
vain to call to mind a grander form. It is the Pointe 
de Salles, the eastern extremity of a mountain range 
extending to the Aiguille de Varens, just above 
St. Martin, round whose base winds the high road 
to Chamouni. In outline it reminds one somewhat 
of the huge crested crags, like petrified waves of 
rock, that form the great feature of the view from 
Leukerbad towards the Ghemmi Pass, but it is 
beyond all comparison grander and more solemn in 
form, as well as richer in colouring. The upper 
part of the mountain is a bare and precipitous struc- 
ture of naked rock, built tier above tier, rising first 
gently and then sharply from west to east, and end- 
ing in an abrupt precipice of some 1500 or 2000 
feet. Nothing can exceed the grandeur of this line 
of crags, and few that I have seen are equally rich 
in colour. The rock is a light-brown weather- 
stained limestone, and seems to have a peculiar apti- 
tude for lighting up with the varying hues appro- 
priate to different times of the day and different 
states of the atmosphere. In the early dawn I have 
seen it looking as stern and lifeless, and almost as 
cold and grey, as the icy brow of Mont Blanc him- 
self ; then, as the kindling rays caught its surface 
and rapidly descended its shaggy sides, violet, then 

c 3 



22 



THE POINTE DE SALLES. 



pink, then brilliant, like new gold ; beneath the 
mid-day sun I have seen it looking rich and brown, 
but most glorious in the glow of declining day, 
bathed in floods of warmer radiance — now yellow, 
now all on fire with rosy light, now of a soft sepia 
tint, and then at length settling once more into the 
iron hues of dusk. Beneath the serrated ridge is a 
narrow " swarded shelf," which looks from below so 
steep that one almost wonders how soil, and herbage, 
and stunted trees can find a resting-place on such an 
incline. It projects beyond the eastern base of the 
precipice, and is itself raised to a height of some 
thousands of feet above the gorge of the Griffre by a 
bare perpendicular Avail of crag, far more massive 
than the peak above, and only less imposing because 
it does not start, like the Pointe de Salles itself, 
from the level of the clouds. Few persons, how- 
ever accustomed to the wonders of Alpine passes, 
could repress a feeling of astonishment on learn- 
ing that along this wild ledge, beneath the foot 
and round the nearest extremity of the range of 
limestone precipices, raised at such a dizzy height, 
is carried the romantic passage of the Col d'An- 
terne from Sixt to Servoz. The earlier part of 
the pass by which the ledge is reached lies in a deep 
hollow between the base of the Pointe de Salles 



LA GKANDE JOUX. 



23 



and a nearer and lower peak of a curious conical 
form, dotted with firs right up to the summit, and 
masking the upper part of the valley. 

Beside the rugged grandeur of the Pointe de 

DO O 

Salles, a fine craggy mass in front of the traveller, 
occupying, in fact, the larger part of the landscape, 
has little chance of being duly appreciated. Any- 
where else "La Grande Joux" would pass for a noble 
object. It is a spur of the Buet, its south-western 
precipices forming one flank of the valley of the 
Haut Giffre, near the origin of one branch of which 
it merges in the snow-clad mass of the Buet it- 
self. Its loftier portions are bare and precipitous 
enough, but lower down it presents a broad ex- 
panse of wooded heights ; lower still, rich pastures, 
mingled with patches of arable land, and dotted with 
straggling orchards, slope down to the alluvial and 
carefully cultivated plain watered by the streams of 
the Giffre. 

A short descent, and a few minutes' drive by the 
side of the Giffre — now diminished to a brawling 
mountain water-course, some twenty yards in width 
and fordable anywhere — bring the traveller to a long, 
straggling line of cottages, ending in a little square, 
graced, like that of Samoens, by a noble linden 
tree. At the further end of the square is an oblong 
c 4 



24 



SIXT. 



enclosure, within which are situated the cure's house, 
the church, and a long and lofty building parallel 
to it, and connected with it by a vaulted passage, 
formerly the Convent of Sixt, (which is still, like 
Chamoum, called in patois " la Priora," ) now the 
hospitable hostelry of the "Fer a Cheval." A new 
hall and entrance, or rather restorations of these 
portions of the old premises, were in contemplation 
when I was last there (Oct. 1858), and they would 
be approached through the great gate of the old 
conventual enclosure, the way to the church also. 
Up to the time of my last visit, however, you con- 
tinued for a few yards by the river side, and beneath 
the convent wall ; and just catching one beautiful 
view of the yet unseen valley of the Bas GifFre, 
closed in by the glaciers of Mont Rouan and the 
sharp Pic de Tinneverges, turn in by a little gateway 
on the left, and, in somewhat primitive fashion, 
entered the inn through the kitchen. 

The " Hotel du Per a Cheval " has great capa- 
bilities. The building is of the most substantial 
kind, the old staircases, now disused, wide and hand- 
some, the corridors lofty and airy, and the bed- 
rooms excellent. Up to 1858, however, it was not 
properly organised. Till two or three years ago, the 
proprietor, Moccand, had only a small portion of the 



HOTEL DU FEE A CHEVAL. 25 

old convent. The kitchen, offices, stabling, and out- 
houses, with a sort of tap-room, the old refectory, 
on the ground floor, a rather shabby salle a manger, 
and one good and two indifferent bed-rooms, all 
opening out of one another, on the first floor, and 
about the same amount of accommodation on the 
second, constituted the whole of the premises. In 
the autumn of 1857, however, he succeeded in 
buying the whole of the building, which, in 1858, 
was being gradually brought into habitable condi- 
tion. A great vaulted corridor, not less than thirty 
or forty yards in length, runs along the whole length 
of the building on each floor, out of which open a 
number of rooms on either hand. On my last visit 
those on the first floor, on the side of the river, were 
all habitable. Those on the opposite side of the 
corridor, against the church, were still filled with 
lumber, dust, and rubbish, and many were without 
doors and windows. Vigorous preparations were 
making, however, for carrying on the work of re- 
storation, and probably by this time a large portion 
of the building is ready for the reception of visitors. 
One room which my wife and I occupied for many 
days in August and September, 1858, I especially 
commend to the traveller. It is at the end of the 
house, towards the village, and commands a glorious 



26 



MARIE. 



prospect, towards the valley leading up to the Col 
d'Anterne. I shall not readily forget the sunrises 
and the moonlight views we have watched from 
those windows. 

The landlord, Moccand, was unfortunately given to 
sotting, and it was truly deplorable to witness the 
struggles of his wife — a smart, active, clever French- 
woman of some fifty years of age — to maintain a 
little order and regularity in the household. Their 
only child, a lad of sixteen or seventeen, did not 
give her much assistance, and the whole service of 
the house appeared to devolve on Madame Moccand, 
who presided in the kitchen, and a wonderful maid 
named " Marie," the gentlest creature that ever was 
tossed by fortune into such a place, who seemed able 
to dispense with sleep and food to a greater extent 
than any other human being I ever met with. Was 
supper wanted by a belated traveller at ten o'clock 
at night, Madame Moccand was bustling about as 
actively as if it were mid-day, frying her excellent 
trout — the best perhaps in the world — or whipping 
up a frothing bowl of " ceufs a la neige," while Marie 
was spreading a clean cloth on the table of the 
6S salle a manger : " was linen to be washed before the 
morning, Marie was ready to receive it without a 
murmur, and by the hour named it was sure to be 



MAKIE. 



27 



ready: was breakfast needed by some midnight 
wanderer, like myself, at one or two in the morning, 
at half-past twelve or half-past one Madame Moccand, 
as brisk as if she had had a week's repose, was stir- 
rino- the wood-fire to make the coffee and boil the 
eggs ; and Marie — having passed an hour or two on 
the bare benches of the tap-room, for fear of over- 
sleeping herself if she gave way to the allurements 
of bed — pale and worn, and miserably fagged, but 
with a pleasant smile upon her face, was making all 
necessary preparations upstairs. With so incom- 
plete a staff, and with a drunken landlord, it was not 
to be expected that the service of the house should 
be good. Punctuality is a virtue but ill appreciated 
at Sixt ; but it would be most ungrateful not to say 
that every thing that the united efforts of these two 
excellent women could accomplish for the comfort 
and welfare of the guests was most scrupulously 
performed. The kind folk at the Hotel de Helvetie 
at Frutigen, are the only people I have met with 
in my travels who have rivalled Madame Moccand 
and Marie in thoughtfulness and attention. If 
Madame had been properly seconded by her husband 
and her son, they might have had one of the best 
plain country inns among the Alps. As it was, the 
poor woman had hard work to keep things straight, 



28 



LA " CUISINE MOCCAND." 



and if she had become incapacitated, the place would 
have gone to rack and ruin at once. I strongly- 
urged upon them the absolute necessity of having a 
larger staff of servants for the next season, when 
much more of the house would be thrown open, and 
I believe they intended to do so. In the winter of 
1858, however, Moccand paid the debt of nature, 
the consequence, if I remember right, of some un- 
usual imprudence. I have not heard how the esta- 
blishment has fared since, but I have no doubt 
things have gone on far better since Madame has 
been free to make her own arrangements, and exer 
cise her own authority. I know that Marie was 
still there last year. 

The " Cuisine Moccand " was not recherchee, cer- 
tainly. It was an odd mixture. Every now and then, 
as in the " ceufs a la neige," the chocolate cream, 
and some other little dishes, it presented glimpses of 
better things ; but uncertainty as to result seemed 
to be its prominent characteristics. The soup was 
sometimes excellent, sometimes little better than 
dishwater ; so with the chops, the fried potatoes, 
the chickens, and most of the other eatables. Still, 
on the whole, the fare, though plain, was good and 
wholesome, and such as only fastidious travellers 
would complain of. Sound and drinkable red wine 



CHARGES. 



29 



may be had at a reasonable price, as well as some 
very fair " Ay Mousseux," and so-called Moet, for 
those who prefer some form of sparkling wine. The 
bills I have uniformly found, very moderate, and any 
mistakes that have occurred have invariably been in 
my favour ; and when we have stayed any length of 
time in the house we have enjoyed a most liberal 
pension for five francs a-day a-piece. 



30 



chap. n. 

" Majestic circuit, beautiful abyss, ' 
By nature destined from, the birth of things 
For quietness profound." — Wordsworth. 

" He held himself for an exempted 
And privileged being, and as if he were 
Incapable of dizziness or fall ; 
But now ****** 
He plunges in unfathomable ruin." 

Coleridge. — The Death of WaUenstein. 

THE FER A CHEYAL, THE FOND DE LA COMBE, AND 
THE FATE OF JACQUES EALMAT. 

THE PIC DE TINNEVERGES. — THE FER A CHEVAL. — THE FOND DE LA 
COMBE. — A TRAGICAL INCIDENT. — DISAPPEARANCE OF JACQUES 
BALMAT. — A REVELATION. — THE HUNTER TAKEN OFF HIS GUARD; — 
MOTIVES OF THE SYNDIC. — THE CHALETS OF BORET. — CATERPILLARS' 
PARADISE. — LANDSLIPS OF THE TETE NOIRE. — THE VAUDRU. 

The village of Sixt, as mentioned in the last 
chapter, is situated near the extremity of the valley 
of the Bas GifFre, a few minutes' walk from its 
junction with the Haut GifFre, which forms with it 
an obtuse ano-le ; behind this anp;le lies the massive 
system of the Buet. The waters of the Bas Giffre 
are supplied partly, of course, by springs, but mainly 



THE PIC DE TINNE VERGES. 



31 



by the drainage of the glaciers of the Mont Rouan 
and others which lie at the back of a remarkable 
peak or aiguille, called the Pic de Tinneverges, 
rising abruptly to a height of upwards of 10 5 000 
feet, at a distance of about an hour's walk north- 
east from Sixt. As you look up the valley this peak 
forms the most remarkable object in the view. The 
upper part is a massive pyramid, of broken outline, 
towering high above the glaciers at its base, very 
steep and craggy, but dashed here and there with 
patches of unmelted snow. The lower part belongs 
to a system of shaggy precipices which guard the 
southern side of the valley of the Bas Giffre — the 
right-hand side as you look up the valley — extend- 
ing in one long line, surmounted at intervals by 
other and smaller summits, from the Pic de Tinne- 
verges to the block of the Buet itself. Precipices, 
of less elevation but of equally rugged character, 
guard the valley on the north side also, so that the 
Lower Giffre runs in a deep channel or furrow 
between perpendicular banks of irregular height. 
The width of the valley from wall to wall may be — 
I speak at a guess and from memory — from half a 
mile to a mile and a half. The lower part, however, 
is filled up with the banks of debris from the heights 
above, resting at their natural angle of repose, and 



32 



THE FEE, A CHEVAL. 



descending frequently to the river's banks. They 
are for the most part clothed with woods and thickets 
— still favourite haunts of the chamois — in which 
the universal fir is largely mingled with deciduous 
trees. The lower part of the valley, like the rest of 
the neighbourhood, is characterised by much natural 
fertility of soil and luxuriance of vegetation. 

Three or four miles above Sixt you come to one 
of the most curious and interesting scenes of the 
district. The great wall of precipice forming the 
southern barrier of the valley suddenly recedes 
from the course of the river, and curving round in 
a semicircle, becomes the boundary of an enormous 
amphitheatre of unparalleled wildness and sublimity. 
Successive landslips on a colossal scale have half 
filled up the area beneath with a confused assem- 
blage of low irregular hills, now thickly clad with 
wood, or brought into more profitable cultivation by 
the hand of man. Along the whole length of the 
arc towers an unbroken line of nearly perpendicular 
precipice, never less than a thousand feet in height, 
and sometimes considerably higher. This imposing 
barrier is itself surmounted by a grand chain of still 
loftier crags, rising terrace upon terrace, till they 
attain their greatest elevation in the magnificent peak 
of the Tinneverges — the north-eastern point of the 



THE PIC DE TINNE VERGES. 33 

liorse-shoe — and the scarcely less imposing summit 
of the Tete Noire, about half way between the two 
extremities of the semicircle ; while, further still to 
the west, the glaciers of the Buet peep over the 
buttresses of rock, and call to mind the wonders of 
the upper world of ice and snow. I know few 
scenes in which the mountains rise so perpen- 
dicularly to so great a height. The peak of 
Tinneverges from this spot presents a remarkably 
broken and rugged outline ; one great block near 
the top of the mountain detaches itself from the 
general mass and shoots up in the form of a solitary 
tower several hundred feet high ; and though masses 
of debris reposing at the foot of each successive 
terrace of rock inform the mind that the summit is 
far enough away, the impression produced upon the 
eye is that of a pinnacle almost above the spectator's 
head. It is curious to observe how materially the 
aspect of the mountain is changed by climbing a 
short distance up the rising ground on the other 
side of the valley. The eye then takes in the true 
character of the mountain as a stately edifice solidly 
built up in accordance with the truest principles of 
permanence ; each story, so to speak, being sup- 
ported at its base by the most substantial buttresses 
of earthwork. A sketch taken by my wife, from 

D 



34 



WATEEFALLS. 



such a point of view, which lies before me as I 
write, conveys entirely this impression ; yet I well 
remember how vertical the structure looked from 
below, as I tried in vain so to plant my camera as 
to get a satisfactory picture from the truth-telling 
pencil of the sun. 

It is in the spring, however, and in the early 
summer, that the magnificent amphitheatre of the 
Fer a Cheval, as it is appropriately named, is seen to 
its full advantage ; for then every notch along the 
serrated line of crag becomes the birthplace of a 
waterfall, from the tiny thread of spray which quivers 
in every breeze, and dances irresolutely down the 
sombre crag, half dissipated before it lights upon 
the ground below, to the furious torrent plunging in 
one bold leap from top to bottom of the deepest pre- 
cipice, and announcing its presence with a voice that 
emulates the thunders of the sky. There is no 
season and no weather in which a number of white 
streaks may not be seen striping the dark surface of 
the rock ; but it is said that when the winter's snows 
are thawing rapidly beneath the suns of May and 
June, their number and volume are extraordinary. 
Fine waterfalls are characteristic of the neighbour- 
hood of Sixt; so much so, that a notion has long 
been current, singularly erroneous as it is, that they 



THE FOND DE LA COMBE. 



35 



form the chief attraction of the scenery ; and cer- 
tainly this valley of the Bas Giffre has its full share 
of them. Several, and among them one of remark- 
able grace and beauty, — that of La Gouille, — are 
passed on the way from Sixt to the Per a Cheval ; 
and the higher part of the valley, above the Fer a 
Cheval, is graced by several more, though not of so 
important a character as those which have been 
already passed. 

A tolerable char-road and a gentle ascent make 
the entrance to the Fer a Cheval easily accessible to 
even the most delicate of the gentler sex. At this 
point the road enters a scattered fir wood, which 
extends across a great part of the valley, and en- 
tirely masks its upper end. Here the char-track 
partially ceases, and there is a short ascent of a 
steeper character and over rougher ground. The 
streams from the Fer a Cheval have united in 
a single channel, and cross the road in an impetuous 
torrent, which leaves extensive traces of its vigorous 
action in spring and early summer. Charming little 
stereoscopic " bits " abound amongst the moss-grown 
boulders bordering the stream on either hand. Rough 
as the road is, and swampy though it be occasionally, 
the char can go half a mile or a mile further, and 
land its passengers fairly within the Fond de la 

D 2 



36 



A TRAGICAL INCIDENT. 



Combe, as the wild and secluded recess forroino- the 
head of the valley is called. It is a barren plain, 
two or three miles long, and narrowed to less than 
half the width of the lower part of the valley, sup- 
porting a scanty and reluctant growth of herbage. 
It is shut in at its upper extremity by a massive 
barrier of rock, crowned by the glaciers of Mont 
itouan, with the sharp Aiguille de Mont Eouan 
jutting up from amidst them, and jealously guarded 
on either hand by lofty and converging walls of 
precipice or of broken crag, interspersed by nearly 
inaccessible ledges of vegetation. The precipices 
on the south or right-hand side are particularly steep, 
and at the same time dotted with innumerable patches 
of bright green grass, protected from the scorching 
effect of the mid-day heat upon the produce of such 
stony ground, by the line of tall cliffs which rise boldly 
above them, and supply them with a grateful shade. 
It is astonishing to what difficult heights the industry 
of the Savoyard peasantry will tempt them in pur- 
suit of grass; and we were told that there is scarcely 
a spot of verdure along the whole line of crag that 
is not visited annually for the sake of the scanty 
hay-crop, which is made up and bound together in 
bundles, and then rolled down the face of the pre- 
cipice. Many such places can only be reached by 



JACQUES BALM AT. 



37 



taking the shoes off the feet ; one was pointed out 
to us as the scene of a tragical incident which had 
happened a year or two previously. A youth, who 
was helping his father to start a bundle of hay, sud- 
denly lost his footing, and, slipping over the edge of 
the rock, was dashed to pieces in an instant. He 
was the second or third of the same family who had 
met with this fate, yet they still persevered in their 
dangerous cropping. The wonder is that such acci- 
dents do not frequently happen, for most of the tiny 
hay-fields themselves are on very steep banks, and 
there is perhaps scarcely any one danger of Alpine 
travelling so great as that of traversing or descend- 
ing steep slopes of dry and close-cropped herbage 
with an unfenced precipice beneath. 

The glaciers of the Mont Rouan are interesting 
to those who care about the great names in Alpine 
story, as the scene of the tragedy which closed the 
career of the adventurous Jacques Balmat, the hero 
of Mont Blanc, perhaps the hardiest and most in- 
domitable mountaineer that ever drew breath, even 
beneath the shadow of the Alps. He had, un- 
fortunately for himself, contracted a habit of gold- 
seeking, which kept him poor all his life ; and he 
had long had an idea that in some veins, apparently 
of carboniferous earth, which streak the calcareous 

D 3 



38 



HIS DISAPPEARANCE. 



precipices near the glaciers of Mont Rouan, gold-ore 
might be found. In the month of September, 1834, 
being then no less than seventy-two years of age, he 
started, accompanied by a single chasseur of Yal 
Orsine, — one Paclie by name, — on his perilous tour 
of discovery. He was seen the following day, in 
company with the huntsman, making his way to- 
wards the head of the Fond de la Combe. Late in 
the afternoon they reached a solitary hut, called La 
Cabane des Bergers de Moutons, perched on one of 
the largest of the patches of grass already mentioned, 
and here they passed the night. The next day the 
hunter returned alone, and Jacques Balmat was 
never seen again. His companion betrayed great 
reluctance to answer any questions concerning him ; 
and, when pressed, always asserted that they had 
separated in the morning, Jacques Balmat making 
his way towards the glaciers, he returning in the 
other direction, as the old man insisted upon going 
into places of such danger that he dared not follow 
him. Of what befel Balmat after they parted, he 
declared he knew nothing. 

The Yal Orsine man stuck to his story whenever 
interrogated, and unsatisfactory as his manner was 
always felt to be, nothing could be discovered to 
contradict his account ; and there the matter rested 



CAUTION OF THE SYNDIC. 39 

till fresh light was thrown upon it by an incident 
which illustrates curiously the state of society at 
Sixt, and the nature of the objects of primary im- 
portance in the eyes of the village politician. Years 
after this occurrence, a disclosure was made by a 
man, who at the time Jacques Balmat disappeared, 
had been Syndic of the commune, an officer bearing 
the same title as the chief person of the commune at 
the present day, but then deriving his authority 
from the fact of his being the nominee and repre- 
sentative of the central administration, not, as now, 
from being the free choice of popular election. This 
person now divulged, for the first time, that the day 
after Jacques Balmat was last seen, a peasant of his 
commune had informed him that on the previous day 
his two children had been playing on the grassy slopes 
on the northern side of the Fond de la Combe, near 
the Chalets de Boret, when they beheld a man, who 
had been apparently creeping along the naked face 
of the rocks opposite, above a great accumulation of 
broken blocks of ice which had been pushed over a 
precipice by the advance of the glacier, suddenly fall 
and disappear in a chasm between the rock and the 
ice. Influenced by motives which the reader would 
scarcely guess, and which it would appear were 
shared by his informant, the Syndic strictly charged 

D 4 



40 



A REVELATION. 



the children never to breathe a syllable of what they 
had seen, and threatened them with all the undefined 
terrors of the law if they ever ventured to tell the 
story to any one else. The children were young, and 
probably living at a solitary chalet, where they had 
no one but their parents to talk to, and either forgot 
or only faintly remembered the incident, or were 
imbued with a salutary respect for so great a per- 
sonage as the Syndic, and the secret had been kept 
to that hour. The ex -Syndic was well aware that 
the relatives of Balmat had made anxious but fruit- 
less searches for his remains, and that some sort of 
suspicion of want of candour had fallen upon the 
Val Orsine hunter, and, whether his conscience at 
last smote him, that he had suffered him to remain 
so long under a cloud, or for what other reason does 
not appear, but he now for the first time told this 
story to the then Vice-Syndic of Sixt. The Vice- 
Syndic communicated the intelligence, first to Jean 
Payot of Chamouni, and afterwards repeated it in the 
presence of my informant, Auguste Balmat. The 
children in question were inquired for, but it seemed 
they had left the neighbourhood. The spot, how- 
ever, from which the figure had been seen to fall, a 
little green oasis in the desert of rock, was pointed 
out ; and a fresh expedition was organised, on an 



UNSUCCESSFUL EXPEDITION. 



41 



extensive scale, from Chamouni. Among the ex- 
plorers were Auguste Balmat and several other 
relatives of the deceased, and one Michel Carrier, 
the artist of the great plan in relief of Mont Blanc 
known to visitors at Chamouni, and a tolerable 
draughtsman. With incredible difficulty, and taking 
the utmost precautions against accident, they suc- 
ceeded in reaching the green knoll near and at the 
side of the glacier. Here they found below them a 
precipice, and at the foot of this the broken masses 
of ice shot over the edge of the platform on which 
the glacier rests. Auguste was tied to a rope, but 
found it impossible to descend the face of the rock, 
or to get any nearer to the chasm which had received 
his great uncle. He described it as a black gulf, the 
bottom of which he could not see, into which a 
stream issuing from the glacier was thundering, and 
stones and blocks of ice, broken off as the glacier 
poured over the ridge, were continually falling. All 
hope was therefore finally abandoned of the possi- 
bility of finding any traces of the great pioneer of 
Mont Blanc. 

Carrier, however, took a sketch of the spot, and 
the party returned to Chamouni. Some time after- 
wards he and Auguste Balmat went together to the 
Yal Orsine. When they drew near to the hunter's 



42 



PACHE OFF HIS GUARD. 



cottage, Carrier went on alone to the door, and 
asked Pache if he had seen Balmat, adding, " I ex- 
pected him somewhere about here; he is gone to 
seek minerals." The man answered that he had not 
seen Auguste, but invited Carrier to sit down and 
wait for him. Half an hour afterwards Balmat came 
by, as if casually, and asked if Pache had seen Car- 
rier. The hunter insisted on their taking a bottle of 
wirie, to which they assented, on condition that he 
should come to Yal Orsine and dine with them. 
Accordingly the three adjourned to the inn at Yal 
Orsine, where they sat down to dinner, and Balmat 
and Carrier took care to ply the old hunter freely 
with wine. When it had begun to tell upon him a 
little, and the suspicious reserve he always main- 
tained in the presence of those whom he associated 
with Jacques Balmat had a little worn away, Car- 
rier, who was sitting beside him, suddenly pulled out 
the sketch he had taken at the Fond de la Combe, 
and laid it before him, saying, " Connaissez vous cet 
image ? " The hunter, taken off his guard, started 
back, exclaiming, " Mon Dieu ! voila ou. Jacques 
Balmat est peri ! " i( What then ? " said Carrier ; 
ee you know where he perished ? " The man appeared 
confused for a moment, and then recovering his 
habitual caution, said, (t "No, no, I know nothing 



AVALANCHES. 



43 



about it, but I saw the scene near which I left him, 
and it struck me as the kind of place he might have 
fallen down." He then got up, and no entreaties 
could prevail upon him to stay ; and by no artifice 
could he be induced to approach the subject again. 

It is not difficult to understand that an ignorant 
peasant, fearful of being charged with having had a 
hand in the death of Jacques Balmat, should have 
imagined that his safety lay in pretending absolute 
ignorance of every circumstance connected with his 
fate ; but the conduct of the Syndic, to whom the 
whole mystery was known, requires to be explained 
a little more in detail. 

It is not easy for a person unfamiliar with the 
Alps to conceive the importance justly attached by 
the members of a mountain community to their 
forests. Not only do they depend upon them, and 
upon nothing else, for their supplies of fuel and for 
their building materials, but also for the still more 
important service of at once breaking up into de- 
tached portions the accumulations of the winter snow 
which falls upon the area they cover, and of forming 
a protecting barrier against the avalanches hurled 
from the heights above them. These avalanches bring 
with them not merely snow, but rocks, stones, and 
debris, and sweeping over the unprotected mountain 



44 



IMPORTANCE OF FORESTS. 



sides in prodigious volumes and with incredible 
velocity, not unfrequently tear off large portions of 
mould, and kneading it up with their own substance, 
cover the comparatively level ground, which finally 
arrests their progress, with a compound of earth and 
snow. When spring comes round and the snow 
melts into water, the land is covered with a thick 
deposit of mud, through which it will perhaps take 
two or three seasons for the herbage beneath to force 
its way ; so that even if houses, men, and cattle be 
out of the reach of the avalanche, it may do damage 
enough to impoverish a whole neighbourhood. Any- 
thing, therefore, which tends to the destruction of 
their forest ramparts, is regarded by the peasantry 
as a deplorable calamity. Several remarkable in- 
stances of the losses inflicted upon the population 
of a neighbourhood by the destruction of forests to 
supply 'fuel for mining purposes, in the southern 
valleys of the Alps, are recorded in Mr. King's 
interesting volume, " The Italian Valleys of the 
Pennine Alps." Jacques Balmat was a noted gold- 
seeker, and despite his ill-success, enjoyed consider- 
able reputation throughout the communes near to 
Chamouni as a person of great knowledge and 
experience on such subjects. The moment the Syn- 
dic heard that the children had seen a man fall clown 



THE SYNDIC'S MOTIVES. 



45 



the precipice of Mont Rouan, he conjectured that 
Jacques Balmat, who had been seen in the valley a 
day or two before, had been searching for gold in 
that neighbourhood, and that it was he who had 
met with the terrible fate described by the children. 
A vague local tradition had long been current, 
which asserted that gold was to be found in the 
valley, and that some Swiss adventurers had even 
made their fortunes by working it; but little heed 
was paid to the story, and no one had assigned 
to the popular notion any particular locality. If 
Jacques Balmat were once known to have selected a 
definite spot for his researches, his example would be 
followed; and the discovery which had been frustrated 
by his tragical death would be accomplished by 
others. Mines would be opened, vast quantities of 
wood would be needed to smelt the ore, the interests 
of the valley would be sacrificed to the influence of 
persons who could gain the ear of the authorities at 
Turin, and their forests would be destroyed to feed 
the cupidity of strange adventurers. Such was the 
train of thought which passed through the mind of 
the wary Syndic, and determined him, at all hazards, 
to suppress every trace of facts which might put 
future gold-hunters on the right scent. The story 
seems a strange one, but it is perfectly true, and I 



46 



THE CHALETS DE BORET. 



shall have occasion to mention before long an inci- 
dent which occurred to myself, and which strongly 
illustrates the dread entertained to the present day 
by the peasantry of Sixt of anything which they 
fancy may bring about the same catastrophe, and 
the facility with which they infer that any unwonted 
project is likely to conduce to it. 

It is well worth while to climb from the head of 
the Fond de la Combe to some of the grassy heights 
on the left or northern side of the valley. They 
command magnificent views of the glaciers of Mont 
Houan, of the Aiguille de Tinneverges, and of the 
connected system of the Buet. One at least of 
these districts of upland pasture supports a con- 
siderable group of houses ■ — the Chalets de Boret 
— the inhabitants of which are occupied almost 
exclusively in making cheeses. I remember pass- 
ing through the village in the full heat of a sultry 
August noon-day, and as usual being unable to pro- 
cure a draught of milk, though perhaps a hundred 
cows had been milked there that morning — the 
whole of their produce being already in process of 
conversion into cheese. The ascent from the head 
of the valley to these Chalets of Boret is very 
beautiful, the path leading for a long distance be- 
tween thickets of nut-trees, elder bushes, and 



THE MAUVAIS PAS. 



47 



tangled underwood, and being decorated by a great 
variety of beautiful wild flowers. 

One path by which you may return to the valley 
is also remarkably wild and picturesque, leading 
first through such a wilderness of wild raspberries, 
blackberries, and other mountain fruits, that you 
must be more or less than man if you can pass 
quickly through it, and ending in a regular stair- 
case — aptly denominated the Mauvais Pas — cut 
down the face of the steep buttresses of disinte- 
grated limestone rock, which rise almost perpendi- 
cularly from the valley. In some places little wav- 
ing waterfalls tumble from the heights above, and 
make the surface slippery beyond description : more 
than one spot of this kind requires no common 
precaution in passing it, and before the path is 
6( arranged" (to use the universal phrase of these 
districts) in spring, the passage must be most dan- 
gerous, if not altogether impossible. A track 
across a similar formation constitutes the main dif- 
ficulty of the Col de Sageroux, which leads from 
the head of this valley to Champery, at the northern 
base of the Dent de Midi, and was once so formid- 
able that Balmat told me he had scarcely ever been 
in such imminent danger as in passing that Col after 
a shower of rain succeeded by a slight frost. It is 



48 



BUTTEKFLIES. 



now, however , " arranged " so well, as I am told, 
that an experienced pedestrian may safely undertake 
it in fine weather with or without a guide. 

The whole excursion from Sixt to the Fond de la 
Combe and back will occupy five or six hours of 
actual walking; somewhat less if a char be used 
where practicable : but it is a pity to hurry through 
such scenery, and any length of time may be pro- 
fitably employed in this interesting valley. I am 
told that the glaciers of Mont Kouan are very 
beautiful and interesting, and well repay the trouble 
of a visit. They are accessible from the Fond de la 
Combe, not by climbing up at the end of the valley^ 
but by ascending to the Chalets of Boret, and pass- 
ing the higher Chalets of Vogalli; you must then 
quit the track of the Sageroux, and turning to the 
right, get behind the Aiguille de Mont Rouan. If 
the traveller be interested in any branch of natural 
history, he will find ample material for observation 
in the rocks, the glaciers, the fossils, the vegetation, 
and the various forms of insect life. The valley 
abounds in butterflies : I know nothing of entomo- 
logy, and can, therefore, speak only as an ignorant 
observer ; but I have seen few valleys north of the 
great chain which appeared to me so rich in insects, 
and especially in butterflies, as this arm of the 



" caterpillars' paradise." 49 



valley of Sixt. When I first visited it in August 
1857, there was a portion of the plain of the Fond 
de la Combe, about a couple of hundred yards long, 
so covered with the magnificent caterpillars of the 
sphinx moth, that it was almost impossible to walk 
across it without crushing scores of them; and, 
though not in such multitudes, we frequently met 
with them for a considerable distance above and 
below this spot. I was unable, where they lay so 
thick on the ground, to find a single perfect blade 
of herbage. The euphorbiaceous plants were the 
objects of their especial affection. It was only after 
a search of many minutes that I was able to find 
an unbitten stalk of euphorbia ; though the plant 
was so abundant, that, observing the fondness of the 
caterpillar for it, we named the place " Caterpillars' 
Paradise." 

I must not forget to mention the magnificent 
echoes of the Fond de la Combe, which are heard to 
advantage near a rude bridge over the Giffre, a 
short distance from the entrance to this portion of 
the valley. In 1858 we took a small cannon up 
from Sixt with a couple of charges of powder, and 
were glad we had done so. 

Those who can spare the time would do well, 
instead of contenting themselves, as people generally 

E 



50 



LAND-SLIPS. 



do, with looking at the Fer a Cheval from the road 
up to the Fond de la Combe, to penetrate into its 
recesses, and examine for themselves the remarkable 
formation, or series of formations, it presents. The 
last great land-slip occurred in 1602, when a huge 
mass detached itself from the Tete Noire ; and on so 
prodigious a scale was the catastrophe, that a village 
called Entre-deux-Nants *, which is said to have 
stood close to the GifFre, at a distance of two miles 
from the mountain (and tradition is generally ac- 
curate in such matters), was partially destroyed, and 
many of the inhabitants killed. Certain it is, from 
what may be seen at this day, that the debris reached 
even further than the spot assigned to the village, 
and now indicated by a cross, the " Croix de Pelly," 
standing at a point which commands one of the best 
general views of the Fer a Cheval, and to which an 
annual pilgrimage is made to offer up the prayers of 
the neighbourhood against the repetition of such 
a calamity. 

The Pic de Tinneverges would be a worthy object 
of enterprise to even a practised mountaineer. I 
have little doubt that the summit may be reached 
from the back of the mountain as seen from Sixt, 
though it can hardly be easy of access. One man, 
* " Nant " means torrent in the patois of this district. 



THE VAUDRU. 



51 



it is true, offered to conduct me to the top, but I 
doubted very ruuch, from his manner, whether he 
had ever been there ; and Balmat, who knows the 
glaciers of Mont Rouan well, told me it was far more 
difficult than my would-be guide represented it to 
me. A much easier expedition, quite practicable 
indeed for a lady, is to the summit of the Yaudru, a 
mountain of some 8000 or 9000 English feet in 
height, rising nearly opposite to the Pic de Tinne- 
verges, on the north side of the valley of the Giffre, 
behind the lofty wall of crags, so that from most 
parts of the valley of the Lower Giffre it is invisible. 
I have not ascended it myself, but all accounts 
concur in representing the excursion as a most 
interesting one, and the point of view as second only 
to the Buet. 



E 2 



52 



chap. m. 

" We started, and he led me towards the hills* 
Up through an ample vale, with higher hills 
Before us, mountains stern and desolate, 
But in the majesty of distance now 
Set off, and to our ken appearing fair." — Wordsworth, 



THE LAC DE GEES. 

SITUATION OF THE LAKE. — BEAUTIFUL ASCENT. — MOCCAND KEPT IN 
ORDER. — EXQUISITE WOOD WALK. — VIEW FROM THE GIETA. — 
NEGLECT OF WILD FRUITS AMONG- THE ALPS. — A DREARY SCENE. — 
THE LAKE. — THE MONTAGNE DE GERS. — A PICTURE FOR THE 
STEREOSCOPE, — THE DESCENT. — REMARKS. 

I have endeavoured, in the last chapter but one, to 
give some idea of the scenery lying to the west of 
Sixt, as it is approached by the high road from 
Bonneville, and, in the last, of the valley of the 
Bas Giffre, which rises nearly east of the village, 
beneath the glaciers of Mont Rouan. I will now ask 
the reader to explore the district lying to the south- 
west and south. I do not for a moment pretend to 



NEIGrHBOUKHOOD OF SIXT. 



53 



be thoroughly familiar with the mountain groups in 
either direction. The range on the south, in par- 
ticular, owing to its broken and indented character, 
to the quantity and stately growth of its woods, and 
to the number of streams and waterfalls to which it 
gives birth, appears to me to offer a better prospect 
of numerous and varied excursions than almost any 
mountain chain that I know ; but the matchless 
beauty of the valley of the Haut Giffre, together 
w T ith circumstances which gave it a special interest 
in my eyes, exerted such a fascination over me, that 
I found myself, whether I would or no, constantly 
wandering towards Les Fonds instead of exploring the 
recesses of the mountains to the south. Perhaps the 
most beautiful parts of this southern region are those 
grouped about the base of the upper tier, so to speak, 
of the Pointe de Salles. The excursion commonly 
recommended at Sixt as one of the most interesting, 
— though I should be far from placing it at the head 
of the list, — is the ascent to the Lac de Gers, a con- 
siderable sheet of water lying in a deep hollow 
among the mountains, at a height of several thou- 
sand feet above the level of Sixt. Passing down 
the village for a distance of about a hundred yards 
from the inn, you cross the plank bridge over the 
Bas Giffre, and strike instantly to the right by a 

E 3 



54 



SITUATION OF THE LAKE. 



path through the meadows enclosed between the 
two arms of the Giffre. The object of your expe- 
dition now lies straight before you, in a gap between 
two mountains beyond the Haut Giffre. That to 
the right is a rounded summit called the Gieta, 
which rises steeply from the valley by a succession 
of broken limestone cliffs, masked by innumerable 
fir trees springing from every ledge, and half hiding 
the faces of bare crag. That on the left is a sin- 
gular double-toothed summit, which forms a pro- 
minent object in most of the views in this direction 
from Sixt and from the valley of the Haut Giffre, 
called the Pointe des Marmottets, or Marmozets. 
The Lac de Gers lies about midway between these 
two mountains, but much further back than either. 
There is nothing from below to excite a suspicion of 
its existence, or to indicate that the gap between 
the two mountain groups ends in the secluded recess 
in which the lake is situated. The path across the 
meadows leads, in about twenty minutes, to a little 
bridge over the Haut Giffre, its junction with the 
Bas Giffre being about half a mile lower down the 
river. It is a much more considerable stream than 
the Bas Giffre, and owes a large portion of its 
volume to the melting of ice and snow, as is evinced 
by its muddier aspect. The approach to this bridge 



BEAUTIFUL ASCENT. 



55 



opens some fine "views of the valley of the Haut 
Giffre, and shows to advantage the grand outline 
and majestic proportions of the Pointe de Salles. 
Crossing the bridge you begin immediately to ascend 
a spur of the Gieta, gradually working to the left, 
towards a stream which drains the Lac de Gers, and 
forms in its rapid descent a series of beautiful water- 
falls. After a very few minutes' climb, you reach a 
little cluster of chalets, surrounded by a sturdy 
growth of wood, comprising fruit-trees — as cherries 
and nuts — as well as beeches, elms, and other de- 
ciduous forest trees. From this point to a little 
bridge by which the stream from the Lac de Gers 
is crossed — a short half hour's walk — the scenery is 
really exquisite. The track mounts very steeply, 
sometimes by actual steps cut in the rock, and 
winds backwards and forwards — now close to a glo- 
rious plantation of beeches, now amongst brush and 
underwood, now trembling on the brink of an abrupt 
and profound precipice, fringed with twisted pine 
trees — one wall of a narrow gorge, down which the 
torrent takes one of its grandest leaps. There are 
one or two places where, by clambering a few steps 
down from the path, — a descent requiring a good deal 
of caution, — you may look into a tremendous chasm, 
half filled with the tumultuous cataract. The slope 

E 4 



56 



BEAUTIFUL ASCENT. 



of the walls of rock conceals the bottom of the chasm, 
but the spot on which you stand actually overhangs 
the fall ; and as you cannot tell how much farther 
the white sheet of foaming spray may reach, the 
grandeur of the scene is heightened by the sense of 
mystery. The roar is tremendous, and it requires 
a steady head to gaze without discomfort into the 
seething and agitated mass below. 

The view from the little bridge itself is extremely 
picturesque, as you look up the stream and see fall 
after fall leaping towards you in sheets of white 
foam, dwindling as the eye travels upwards, to silver 
threads — a track of glisteninc- light amidst the rich 
and varied green of forest and pasture. I had with 
me, when Iwent to the Lac de Gers, a camera for 
taking stereoscopic pictures, and I saw few spots on 
the way so tempting as this ; but a lady was of the 
party, and her horse was carrying my apparatus. 
We had started from Sixt as late as seven o'clock, 
and on these steep slopes, with their somewhat eastern 
exposure, the heat was already very great, so that it 
was not convenient to stop for photography, and I 
was obliged to content myself with thinking how 
beautiful the scene would look in the camera. 
Having crossed the bridge, and having the stream 
now on our right, we climbed, by one of the steep- 



EFFECT OF A THREAT. 



57 



est bridle paths I ever saw, along the ridge of a kind 
of natural embankment — a regular " Alpine but- 
tress" — which fell away on either side of us. For 
about half an hour our way lay upon the bare 
shoulder of turf, where there was not one tree to 
give a momentary shelter from the burning sun ; 
and a more sultry little walk I have seldom taken. 
We were glad to press on to a chalet at the top of 
the turf slope, where we saw a sycamore tree, be- 
neath which we could enjoy the blessings of shade, 
and accordingly we urged Moccand's stout little 
mare to a pace which did not distress her, but caused 
her owner, who had been indulging a little too freely 
in " hairs of the dog that bit him," the greatest an- 
noyance. He was soon distanced, but kept up a 
brisk cannonade of mingled abuse and remonstrance 
addressed to us, the intervals being filled up by a 
running fire of curses muttered to himself. When 
he came up to us beneath the sycamore, he was in- 
clined to be so rough in his language that I was 
obliged to hint at the possibility of my having to 
inform against him at head-quarters, Moccand, 
when not in his cups, was kept well in hand at home, 
and the threat of telling Madame of his conduct 
wrought an instant and most satisfactory change in 
his demeanour. He began to apologise on the 



58 



EXQUISITE WOOD WALK, 



ground that he had been afraid we should go wrong 
(there being but one path !) and endeavoured to atone 
for his rudeness by the most obsequious civility. 

We had now reached a height of a thousand or 
fifteen hundred feet above Sixt, and were upon the 
ridge bounding the little valley, at the bottom of 
which lay the stream we were to follow to its 
source. Quitting our sycamore shade we changed 
it for that of a beautiful wood, through which we 
wound, on nearly the same level, for about a quarter 
of an hour. For this bhort distance the path is one 
of the most exquisite I remember among the Alps. 
Scattered thickets of stunted trees and underwood 
deepened, as we advanced, into a thick mass of 
forest trees of variegated foliage, through which the 
burning rays of the sun could barely struggle, except 
where some opening in the wood gave us a glance 
into the world without ; each new view presenting 
a fresh picture, set in a graceful frame of nature's 
own beautiful workmanship. As we advanced, the 
wood became ever denser, and moss-grown boulders 
lay thick on either side of our path, while a plenti- 
ful undergrowth of bilberries and wild raspberries 
and strawberries certainly did not detract from the 
charms of the scene. The increasing roar of water 
soon told us that we were not far from the stream^ 



A CHOICE OF ROUTES. 



59 



and presently we emerged from the wood and found 
ourselves by the side of a picturesque saw-mill, 
close to the head of this section of the valley. Just 
above the saw-mill was a steep wall of crags, the 
parent of another grand cascade, whence the water 
fell quickly down a rough and broken bed choked 
with rocks, and abounding in exquisite little pools 
and rapids. Again did I long for the camera, and 
again did the thought of the increasing heat urge 
us forward. At this spot you recross the stream, 
and have then the choice of two paths to the Lac 
de Gers. It is much the shortest route to climb by 
a very steep and rugged track — it can hardly be 
called a path — amongst the fir woods lying to the 
right of the waterfall ; and this ascent again is of 
rare beauty — but it is impracticable for horses, and 
the other way, though involving a long round, leads 
to a very fine point of view well worth the extra 
trouble. We took the longer way, as we had the 
horse with us, and working back along the opposite 
side of the valley to that by which we had latterly 
been ascending, made straight for a little depression 
between the Gieta and the rest of the range on our 
left. The steep slopes both above and below the 
path were in many places tilled for corn ; the parched 
soil was covered with a short dry stubble and burned 



60 



VIEW FKOM THE GIETA. 



our feet as we walked over it : the aspect is southern, 
not a tree cast its shade across our path, and there 
was not a breath of air. Had this part of the ascent 
been long we should have had quite enough of it ; 
the whole excursion, however, is not on a great 
scale, and in about half an hour from the saw-mill 
we reached the neck of the range, where a continu- 
ation of our path, leading down the other side of 
the Gieta, would have conducted us by an easy 
descent to Samoens. The top of the Gieta rose 
still above us in gentle undulating slopes of rich 
pasture ground ; and leaving Moccand and his horse 
under the shade of one of a little cluster of chalets 
close to the path, we wandered onwards to the sum- 
mit. It was much further than it looked, but that 
we did not regret, as every step we took projected 
us further into the valley and increased the excel- 
lence of our point of view. On a small scale it 
reminded me in some respects of the Gumihorn 
near Interlaken. Like that remarkable mountain, 
it towers above the point of confluence of several 
valleys, and has a raking view of each. The valleys 
of the Haut and Bas Giffre are both more or less 
commanded by the Gieta, while the straighter 
valley by which their united waters flow down to 
join the Arve, lies open throughout nearly the 



VIEW FKOM THE GIETA. 



61 



whole of its length. The Vaudru, the Pic de Tin- 
neverges, the Pointe de Salles, and the Buet are con- 
spicuous objects in the view, and further to the right 
the great glaciers clustered about the Aiguilles du 
Tour and d'Argentieres call to mind agreeably all 
the countless delightful associations connected with 
the names of Mont Blanc and Chamouni. Mont 
Blanc himself was hidden by the lofty form of the 
Pointe de Salles. The part of the scene which old 
Moccand had been especially anxious we should 
notice was the bird's-eye view of Sixt, and he 
begged us particularly to observe how large the old 
convent looked, as compared with the other buildings 
in the place. He was evidently gloating over the 
thought that it was all his own. 

We soon descended again to the place where we 
had quitted the path, and now turned our backs 
upon the Gieta, and took to a broad and well-beaten 
track, quite practicable for the rough chars of the 
country, which the very considerable produce of the 
Montague de Gers renders it almost necessary to 
bring up from Samoens for the purposes of transport. 
The Gieta is nearly as high as the Lac de Gers, so 
that we had not much more climbing to do. For 
about half an hour our route lay through a beautiful 
forest of straight and shapely firs, affording a most 



62 



WILD FRUITS. 



welcome protection from the hot sun ; they were 
succeeded by a knoll of rising ground which we felt 
no doubt was the barrier of the lake, as we saw no 
higher ground beyond it. It was a strange, wild, 
desolate spot, dotted w r ith withered firs and grey 
mouldering stumps, a kind of " blasted heath," 
except that it was covered with a marvellous pro- 
fusion of bilberry bushes of the most excellent 
quality and in full bearing. Of course no use is 
made of them, though there is fruit enough to be 
had for the gathering, not only to supply a welcome 
addition to the meagre dessert of the hotel dinners, 
but to make an unlimited quantity of excellent tarts, 
jams, and preserves. A bushel might be plucked 
and brought down from the mountains for a franc, 
or even much less, if children were employed to 
pick them ; but the bilberry is utterly neglected 
among the Alps, although at such places as Cha- 
mouni and Zermatt, where the supply of wild straw- 
berries and raspberries is totally inadequate to the 
demand, it would afford a most grateful substitute 
to many a tired and thirsty pedestrian, to whom 
fresh fruit would be the most delicious and whole- 
some refreshment that could be offered. Chamouni, 
however, is a marvel of incongruities. It boasts the 
best guides among the Alps, while, by its abomin- 



A SURPRISE. 



63 



able regulations, it nearly drove those who would em- 
ploy them to other scenes of adventure; it elects the 
i( oldest and most desartless men " to manage the 
affairs of the corporation of guides ; and though it 
is close to inexhaustible supplies of the best ice in 
the world, and full of excellent cooks, the cheap and 
wholesome luxury of an ice, which might be flavoured 
either with syrups or with fresh bilberries, cannot 
be had for love or money. As we had a juster 
appreciation of the bilberry than the natives, we 
called a halt, and flinging ourselves on the ground 
made the best use we could of an opportunity made 
doubly agreeable by the heat of the day. 

Having thus availed ourselves of " the good the 
gods provide," we continued on our way, and arrived 
in a few moments at the top of the knolh What 
was our surprise to find no lake behind ! but a great 
basin a couple of miles across, apparently once the 
bed of a lake, but now a bare expanse of pasture 
land, dotted with abundance of boulders, large and 
small, from the mountains on either hand, traversed 
by the sinuous bed of the stream we had not yet 
hunted to its origin, and blocked at the upper end 
by a long low bank almost like an artificial mound. 
A few black, comfortless-looking chalets, built of 
untrimmed stones and surrounded with the usual sea 



64 



AN INHOSPITABLE WASTE. 



of filth, were scattered about the course of the 
stream ; a few dun-coloured cattle were listlessly 
chewing the cud in various parts of the pastures : 
on either side of the stream was such an accumu- 
lation of stones and debris as almost to conceal its 
waters : the grass had been eaten down as close as 
it could be, and the stunted herbage left by the 
cattle was parched and withered by the sun. In fact, 
a more cheerless, arid, and inhospitable prospect it is 
not easy to imagine. We crossed the dreary waste 
as quickly as we could, and climbing the bank at 
the upper end, came upon another and larger village 
of black and gloomy chalets, with their usual muddy 
accompaniments, and after a short descent found 
ourselves on the banks of the Lac de Gers. 

It is curious enough to find a large body of water 
at so great a height and so far back in the heart of 
the mountains ; otherwise there is nothing particu- 
larly interesting in the ending of the excursion. The 
lake is about a quarter of a mile in its extreme length, 
and from two to three hundred yards in width. 
On the north-western or right-hand side, as you 
come from Sixt, the deepness of its colour, and the 
steepness of the mountain slopes above it, would 
lead to the conclusion that it was of considerable 
depth ; the opposite slope is more gentle, and the 



THE LAC DE GEES. 



65 



bed of the lake shelves very gradually down, for a 
considerable distance. At its upper end is a great 
patch of sand, a sort of delta formed by the moun- 
tain torrent which feeds it, and no doubt covered 
with water when the lake is unusually high. Here 
the inclination of the bed is very gentle indeed ; in 
bathing, we found bottom thirty feet from the edge 
of the water, and a queer, shallow, flat-bottomed 
tub, furnished with two paddles, of very different 
shapes and sizes — the only craft that navigates the 
waters of the lake — which we borrowed from the 
villagers, and which did not draw six inches of water, 
grounded several yards out. On the side next the 
village, the lake appears to be much deeper. The 
bottom is covered with boulders, very painful to the 
naked feet; but there we were out of our depth 
almost immediately. The waters of this lake, like 
that of the Lac d'Anterne, are of a very peculiar 
deep green, such as I have rarely seen elsewhere. 
The Lac d'Anterne must be of immense depth, and 
in places — even under a bright sun — is very nearly 
the colour of the bottles generally used in Sardinia 
for the common wines, when held up to the light. 
The Lac cle Gers is not of so deep a hue, but it 
must be far shallower than the Lac d'Anterne. I 
remember a little tarn, not fifty yards long, but ap- 

E 



66 



THE LAC DE GEES. 



parently of great depth — by the side of the Gla- 
cier d'Orny, within a few paces of the Chapelle 
d'Orny, which is of the same curious colour, but 
quite as dark as the Lac d'Anterne. The lakelet of 
Orny, like the Lac d'Anterne and the Lac de Gers, 
is fed chiefly by snow-water ; for though close to the 
side of the glacier, it is separated from it by a huge 
wall of moraine, and just above it lies a great patch 
of snow, the accumulation of the avalanches of 
spring, which, when I passed over it in the middle 
of September, was lying still unmelted. The tem- 
perature of the Lac de Gers, however, was much 
higher than I should have expected ; we did not 
find it at all too cold for comfortable bathing. 

The scenery of the Lac de Gers is as monotonous 
and uninteresting as it is possible to conceive. The 
left-hand bank is clad with firs — some of them 
very noble trees — but the right-hand bank is com- 
paratively bare, and beyond the herbless expanse of 
debris at the upper end of the lake is a deep pro- 
longation of the valley, enclosed between two steep 
slopes of naked mountain-side, unbroken by a tree 
or even a prominent rock. Across the head of this 
valley, a pass, which must be beautiful enough on 
the other side, leads to the village of Maglan on 
the Chamouni Road, between Cluses and St. Mar- 



THE MONTAGNE DE GERS. 



67 



tin. Here, however, no snowy peak rises beyond 
the head of the valley ; neither crag, nor precipice, 
nor broken outline relieves the dull uniformity of 
the scene : the only encouraging feature in the 
prospect is the distant view of the mountains near 
the Fer a Cheval, seen over the low stony bank that 
dams up the waters of the lake, and reminding you 
that you may find your way back to the brighter 
world you have left. But for all this, the Montague 
de Gers is far more precious in the eyes of a native 
than the grandest scene that rock and glacier could 
furnish forth ; for it is one of the richest and most 
extensive pastures of the district, a famous nursery 
for young cattle and horses, and not less renowned 
for the amount and excellence of the dairy produce. 

Dull as the scene was, we stayed near the lake 
till the heat of the day was past, and then turned 
homewards. We sent the horse on by the circuitous 
path by which we had ascended ; and, in returning 
across the dreary basin below the Lac de Gers, kept 
along the course of the stream, leaving the bil- 
berry knoll on our left. In the hollow between the 
foot of this knoll and the mountain on our right, 
we came upon another saw-mill, most beautifully 
situated by the side of the clear rivulet. A thou- 
sand springs of crystal water, welling out of the 

F2 



68 



THE SAW-MILL. 



ground underneath or beside the stream, were pour- 
ing forth their contributions, a pine forest lay be- 
yond it, and in the distance, some fifteen miles 
away, rose the Pic de Tinneverges, with a mass of 
glaciers and smaller snow-clad peaks grouped about 
the base of his bold sugar-loaf summit. I had 
shouldered the camera when we parted with the 
horse, and felt myself well rewarded for the trouble 
of bringing it up by meeting at last with an ex- 
quisite little picture just suited for the stereoscope. 
The dashing rivulet, with its broken, stony bed, the 
rough and dripping troughs along which the water 
was carried to the mill, the stacks of sawn timber, 
some arranged in the form of an inverted V, others 
built up in squares, each presenting those alternat- 
ing lines of light and shade which always look beauti- 
ful in photography, backed by the jagged tops of the 
pine forests, with the white glaciers and the sharp 
peak in the distance, made just such a composition as 
possesses all the elements of an effective stereo- 
scopic picture. It was the last I was destined to 
take for some time, for I incautiously sat down on 
my ground-glass focusing screen and smashed it to 
atoms. Ground glass is not to be got at Sixt or 
Samoens, and it took Balmat and Cachat nearly 
three whole days of wet weather to grind a suitable 



THE DESCENT. 



69 



face to a piece of common window glass. Their 
manufacture, however, served me for the rest of 
my journey. 

The descent through the pine wood to the lower saw- 
mill need not occupy many minutes. At first there 
is a path lying beneath noble trees and skirted by 
tangled underwood. Presently you reach the skirts 
of the forest, and make your way by a rough scramble 
over very steep and broken ground, commanding 
beautiful views of the rich pastures and fertile valley 
far beneath, till you come to the foot of the fall by 
which the stream has made its bolder descent from 
the top of the crags above. I think I was told 
that a path of some sort exists, avoiding by a circuit 
the roughest places, but we did very well without 
it. The rest of the descent was easily and rapidly 
accomplished, and without hurrying ourselves we 
reached Sixt in about two hours and a half from 
the time we quitted the Lac de Gers. 

We loitered so much that I hardly know exactly 
how long the excursion would occupy if time were 
not so spent ; but it is one advantage of such short 
expeditions, that there is plenty of time to stop on 
the way and enjoy to the uttermost every scene and 
object of interest. It is useful, however, to know 
the amount of actual walking or riding involved ; 

F 3 



70 



REMARKS. 



and I think that from two hours to two hours and a 
half would be ample time to reach the Lac de Gers 
from Sixt, taking the short scramble from the lower 
saw-mill ; the circuit that must be made by a horse 
or mule will require about three quarters of an 
hour more. A couple of hours are amply sufficient 
for the descent. Every one, however, who makes 
the excursion should climb to the top of the Gieta, 
and make his way for a short distance down the side 
towards Sixt, where he will come to the edge of a 
precipice and look down upon the village. It is a 
far more complete and interesting view than that 
from the rounded knoll form in 2: the actual summit. 
1 cannot, however, see that much is gained, unless 
some special object of scientific research be in 
view, by extending the trip to the lake itself. The 
picturesque interest of the excursion is confined 
entirely to the earlier portions, and ceases at the 
bilberry knoll — afterwards, there is hardly anything 
to please the eye. Several parts of the ascent from 
Sixt have attractions of no common order ; but on 
the whole, I think I prefer any of the other ex- 
cursions from Sixt described in this volume, to the 
present one. Above all, start early enough for this 
ascent. The turf slopes are long and fully exposed 
to the morning sun, and by eight o'clock on a warm 



REMARKS. 71 

August morning the heat is almost unbearable. 
Such at least was our experience, though I ought 
to say that when I went to the Lac de Gers, it was 
the first excursion of the season for us, made the 
day after our arrival from England; so that we 
were likely to feel it more than we should have 
done afterwards. I have only to add that no guide 
is necessary. I do not think any one who bore in 
mind that the lake lies in the hollow he had before 
him, when he first left the bridge at Sixt, could lose 
his way ; and though it is most convenient to make 
use of the path, there would be little difficulty in 
ascending or descending anywhere. 



F 4 



72 



CHAP. IV. 

" The spot was made by nature for herself, 

The travellers know it not ; * * * 

* * * But it is beautiful, 

And if a man should plant his cottage near, 

Should sleep beneath the shelter of its trees, 

And blend its waters with his daily meals, 
. He would so love it, that in his death-hour 

Its image would survive amongst his thoughts." 

Wordsworth. 



THE VALLEE DES FONDS AND THE " EAGrLE's NEST." 

COURSE OF THE HAUT GIFFRE. — SALVAGNY.— THE POINTE DE SALLE S 
— " LE ROUGET " AND " LA PLEUREUSE." — LUXURIANT VEGETA- 
TION. — LA CROIX D'ESPERIT. — CURIOUS STRATIFICATION. — FALLS OF 
" LES JOUBAS." — THE PATH OF THE AVALANCHE. — PRECIPICES OF 
THE BUET. — LES FONDS. — MAGNIFICENT VIEW FROM THE PLATEAU. 
— LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. — MANAGEMENT OF COMMUNAL AFFAIRS. — 
PROPOSAL TO PURCHASE. — OPPOSITION OF THE CURE. — POSITION OF 
THE PRIESTS IN SARDINIA. — DIFFICULTIES STARTED. — THE OPPOSI- 
TION PARTY THE STRONGER. — COUNT d'eLIA. — A SECOND DELIBE- 
RATION AND A CASTING VOTE. — THE COUNT INSULTED. — MEMORIALS 
AND COUNTER-MEMORIALS. — THE ROYAL ASSENT OBTAINED. — MON- 
SIEUR DE BERGOENS. — OUR VISIT IN 1858. — DEPUTATIONS. — A 
SERENADE. — SALUTES FIRED. — HOSPITALITIES.— GENEROUS BEHA- 
VIOUR OF ALL PARTIES. — THE " EAGLE'S NEST " NAMED. — THE 
CHALET PLANNED. — OUR NEIGHBOURS AND THEIR CORDIALITY. 



The excursion I shall attempt to describe in the 
present chapter is a very short one. I have often 



COUESE OF THE HAUT GIFFRE. 



73 



reached the Chalets des Ponds from Sixt in an hour 
and a half ; but it is at once so grand and so full 
of softer beauty, it presents so many varied aspects 
of the finest mountain scenery, that I feel almost 
disposed to lay down the pen and abandon the 
eiFort in despair. I have little fear of exaggerating 
its attractions, for after having visited it nearly a 
score of times and spent day after day in passing 
and repassing the same spots — after having seen 
it in sunshine and in shade, in fine weather and in 
wet, by the light of moon and stars, by the first 
faint rays of the early dawn, in the blaze of noon- 
day, and in the softer radiance of sunset, it seems 
to me still, as it did the first hour I beheld it, utterly 
unprepared for its charms, simply the most attractive 
scene I know — even amongst the wonders of the 
Alps a very miracle of beauty. 

The Haut GifFre, which flows through the Vallee 
des Ponds, takes its rise in the very heart of the 
Buet, at a distance of two or three hours' walk from 
Sixt. From its origin, it sweeps in a westerly di- 
rection against the Pointe de Salles — the eastern- 
most extremity of the Chain e des Fys — whence it 
is turned off and flows nearly north, or a little to 
the west of north ; so that from its source to its 
junction with the Bas GhTre, close to the village of 



74 



IRON-WORKS. 



Sixty it forms a kind of irregular elongated semi- 
ellipse. During the greater part of its course the 
mountains hem it closely in, so that the path is 
obliged to follow very nearly the windings of the 
river. For about half an hour's walk after leaving 
Sixt, however, the country on the right bank of the 
stream is of a different character, and the precipi- 
tous heights of the upper part of the valley tone 
down into rolling hills, and finally merge in a little 
plain enclosed between the two arms of the river. 
The path from Sixt leads first across the bridge over 
the Bas Gifire, and past some rough broken-down 
stone buildings, the memorials of an adventurous 
speculation in the shape of iron-works, to which a 
company of sanguine gentlemen once looked with 
exalted hopes, but which resulted in burying their 
fortunes deeper than the ore which they were un- 
lucky enough to have found; then, keeping at a 
distance of more than half a mile from the river, it 
winds over the gentle acclivities that succeed to the 
steeper slopes and ruder heights above, till it is com- 
pelled by the narrowing of the valley to draw near 
to the stream. The borders of the flowing drapery 
with which nature clothes the mountain sides are 
commonly wrought of her richest materials and 
dyed in her brightest colours; and the northern 



SALVAGNY. 



75 



base of the system of the Buet forms no exception 
to the general rule. Close beneath the lowest of 
the limestone crags nestle dark forests of pine, soon 
mingled with the variegated foliage of deciduous 
trees; further down, sloping more gently towards 
the stream, are pleasant pasture lands, and lower 
still the rich and carefully cultivated fields which 
sink finally into the plain — sprinkled with fruit- 
trees, dotted with substantial chalets, and showing 
all the signs of a grateful appreciation by man of 
the bounties of the soil. From this part of the 
route a series of cascades, fed from the Lac de Gers, 
and the fine fall of the Grand Nant, nourished in the 
valleys of the double-toothed Pointe des Marmottets, 
are important and beautiful features of the scene. 
The roar of their waters may often be distinctly 
heard, wafted by the wind across the valley. 

Two villages are passed ; the first not exceeding 
the dimensions of a petty hamlet, the second, by 
name Salvagny, considerably larger than Sixt, and 
the richest village in the commune, though dirty 
enough, in all conscience. The chalets, though very 
plain, are of unusual size; nearly every house is 
built wholly or in part of stone, and some of the 
most prejudiced and impracticable men in the world 
are to be found among its inhabitants. It boasts 



76 



THE POINTE DE SALLES. 



a church whose glittering spire is a conspicuous 
object from many an elevated point of view in the 
neighbourhood. The bold summit of the Pointe de 
Salles comes into view not long after leaving Sixt, 
but it is not till Salvagny has been passed that the 
full grandeur of its majestic proportions can be 
realised. The screen of houses, trees, and rising 
ground which has hidden the lower portion of its 
massive form, is now withdrawn; and, though a 
pleasing foreground is wanting to complete the pic- 
ture in an artistic point of view, nothing can be 
more striking than the aspect of its tremendous pre- 
cipices, now unmasked from the very base of the 
mountain to the summit of its loftiest crag. 

Within a few feet of the last house in the village 
you come unexpectedly on the banks of a torrent, re- 
probated by the universal voice of the neighbourhood 
as des plus mediants. It rises beneath the rocks 
of the Grande Joux, the last summit in that part 
of the Buet range which is prolonged towards Sixt, 
and receives the drainage of a large area. A great 
portion of the space which feeds it must consist of 
surfaces of the steepest inclination, for the pro- 
digious volume of water it is sometimes charged 
with could not be accounted for unless the supplies 
were collected with extreme rapidity. It must also 



A DESTRUCTIVE TORRENT. 



77 



be fed from a stony district, for the size of its swollen 
stream is not more remarkable than the quantity of 
stones it brings down. The bed of the water-course 
close to Salvagny cannot be less than fifty yards 
across, at the very lowest estimate. In the summer, 
during fine weather, this space is dry from side to 
side, with the exception of two or three insignificant 
rivulets, which there is not the slightest difficulty in 
crossing dry-shod; but the wider channel is com- 
pletely filled with a slate-coloured mass of worn and 
rounded stones, rarely of any great size, over which 
the traffic of the summer hardly succeeds in impressing 
a definite path. Lower down the debris spreads out 
on each side into a desolate, herbless expanse, of vast 
extent, and in shape like a fan, from whose barren 
surface every trace of life and vegetation has long 
been swept away. As the reader would expect 
from this lateral expansion of the debris, the 
torrent has now reached a nearly level spot, where 
its destructive force is so far expended that a belt of 
fir wood close to the GifTre is left standing, and 
screens that river from the sight. 

Up to this " mauvais torrent," the path we have 
been pursuing, not only leads to Les Fonds, but 
is the commencement of the road to the Col d'An- 
terne. From this point the two paths diverge : 



78 



PATH TO THE COL D'aNTEKNE. 



that to the Col d'Anterne turns to the right and 
descends, as if making directly for the base of the 
Pointe de Salles; at the distance of about twenty 
minutes' walk it comes upon the river, which it 
crosses by a romantic bridge, and then ascends in 
the lateral valley running back from the GhTre, 
and lying between the Pointe de Salles on the left, 
and the Pointe des Marmottets on the right. Our 
path to Les Ponds begins at once sharply to ascend 
the mountain side on the left ; and here the charac- 
teristic beauties of the excursion commence. The 
first two or three hundred yards are bare enough, 
and towards the middle of the day the heat is often 
very great indeed, but every onward step brings you 
nearer to the Pointe de Salles, and reveals more 
fully its vast proportions, and the majesty of its 
rugged form. The notch at its north-western base, 
forming the valley by which the steep ascent to the 
Col d'Anterne begins, is likewise an object of in- 
creasing interest, as the increasing height gained by 
the spectator gives him a more commanding view of 
the details of its scenery. He cannot fail to observe 
the great beauty of its lower slopes, partly carpeted 
with the bright verdure of Alpine pastures, partly 
clothed with rich woods, composed, like all those 
along the banks of the GifFre, not only of pine and 



THE KOUGET. 



79 



larch, but also of such forest trees as we are more 
accustomed to at home, whose presence, with their 
more varied forms and richer foliage, so greatly en- 
hances the charms of woodland scenery. Nature 
does wisely to guard her most attractive scenes by 
lofty barriers of impassable crag, such as shut in, on 
either side, this well protected valley. Nor must I 
omit to mention that it is graced by two exquisite 
waterfalls, totally different in character, but each 
most beautiful of its kind. The lower, the Rouget, 
is justly considered the finest cascade in this region 
of waterfalls; it is not only of great height and 
volume, but graceful in form, and surrounded by 
every accessory that can enhance its romantic effect. 

The other fall for which this valley is noted is much 
higher up, and contains a smaller body of water ; 
but it flows in a broad stream down a series of 
smooth slabs of rock, broken by numberless ledges ; 
the whole system not perpendicular, but inclined at 
a high angle, so that there is no spout or shoot of 
water, as in most cases, but a broad network of 
skeins of silver threads, each gathered up at its 
origin and shaken out loosely as it makes its voice- 
less way down the slab of polished rock, till it meets 
a fresh led^e, and the scattered filaments are brought 
together again and shed afresh over the next surface 



80 



LA PLEUREUSE. 



of descent. The result is a gentle,, uncomplaining, 
almost noiseless pouring forth of trickling stream- 
lets, to which the peasantry have given the appro- 
priate and poetical title of " La Pleureuse." Even 
at the distance at which it is seen from the path to 
Les Fonds, the peculiar character of the cascade 
is perfectly distinguishable ; it is, however, from 
the ascent to the Col d'Anterne that it is best seen, 
as the Pleureuse is the culminating point of the path 
in this direction; just beneath it, the track turns 
sharply to the left, and winds back along the steep 
and grassy shelf separating the lower from the 
upper precipices of the Pointe de Salles. 

Our path does not linger long on the bare moun- 
tain side. In a very few minutes the skirt of a 
deep pine forest is gained ; and here one begins to 
appreciate the difference between the vegetation of 
the valley of Sixt and that of almost every other 
Alpine valley that I know. Generally speaking, 
but little verdure is to be seen beneath the thick 
foliage of a fir- wood ; the dry twigs, the withered 
leaves, and the decaying cones, make a soft and 
yielding bed of half-formed mould, whence one 
could fancy that a luxuriant vegetation ought to 
spring : but it is not so ; every traveller who has 
visited the Montanvert or the Flegere, or ascended 



BEAUTIFUL VEGETATION. 



81 



the Cramont, knows that beneath the fir-woods he 
generally sees a drab-coloured soil, scarcely more 
than dotted with an occasional spot of herbage ; but 
here, in this valley of the Giffre, the trunks of the 
fir-trees pierce through a tapestry of the richest 
and softest green. Mosses and ferns grow with the 
utmost vigour and freedom, and cover every inch of 
ground not actually occupied by the boles of the 
trees. When the sun is shining brightly, and 
pierces here and there through the thick foliage of 
the wood, it is impossible to say how beautiful are 
the effects of the chequered light and shade, the 
alternations of the brightest emerald and of the 
deepest sea-green, as one stands above and gazes 
down the glades and vistas of the forests, the aisles 
and colonnades with which Nature herself adorns 
the wayside temples she rears on every hand to 
the great Author of this beautiful universe. There 
is one spot, just after the fir- wood is reached, 
where the path passes close to a large boulder, 
so exquisitely covered with a soft thick carpeting 
of moss, and itself so excellently shaped for pur- 
poses of repose, that I was seldom able to pass 
it without yielding to the temptation of laying 
myself at full length upon its green surface and 
enjoying the luxury of a couch that fitted exactly 

Gr 



82 



LA CROIX D'ESPEEIT. 



into every part of the frame which seemed to need 
support. 

The mountains now close in on the left, and 
boulders which have rolled from above begin to be 
of not unfrequent occurrence ; the prospect is nar- 
rowed to the vistas formed by successive stretches 
of the path itself, bounded by the fir-wood on the 
right, and on the left by broken ground strewn 
with rocks, dotted with stunted beeches, and sur- 
mounted by low walls of limestone crag, but always 
ending in the towering form of the Pointe de Salles, 
so lofty as to seem to belong to another world. At 
length a little cross, called La Croix d'Esperit, is 
reached, where a pile of two or three logs invites 
the wayfarer to take a moment's rest. It is only a 
short hour from Sixt, and is half-way to Les Ponds, 
but the peasants have a trick of stopping here, and 
the scene is so very beautiful that we readily fell 
into the habit. The trees have been cut away, or 
cease to grow, for a short space below the cross, so 
that the view of the Pointe de Salles, the Rouget, 
and the valley whence its waters come, and of the 
Pointe des Marmottets, is uninterrupted. The 
GifFre is not visible, being at a great depth below, 
at the foot of what you would suppose to be a pre- 
cipice, were it not that the tops of the fir-trees are 



KEMAEKABLE STRATIFICATION. 83 

visible just beneath your feet. Looking back,, there 
is a pleasing glimpse of the rich country below 
Salvagny, and of the mountain ranges converging 
upon Sixt. 

♦ A quarter of a mile or so beyond La Croix 
d'Esperit, the fir-wood comes to an end, and is re- 
placed by beautiful slopes of bright grass-land. It 
is here that we get, perhaps, the most interesting of 
all the varied views of the Pointe de Salles; for 
we are now opposite to it, and can see how very 
curious as well as how grand a mountain it is. The 
stratification of the vast and solid wall of dark rock 
which forms, so to speak, its lowest story, is most 
remarkable. The materials of which it is built are 
disposed with wonderful regularity in long strata 
of parallel curvature, starting from the left, running 
straight across the face of the precipice in a hori- 
zontal direction, bending gently round before they 
reach the right-hand extremity of the rock, and 
then folded back upon themselves. They thus form 
a system of concentric curves, each of which is 
about two-thirds of a tolerably regular ellipse with 
its longer axis horizontally placed; it is, in fact, 
in mathematical language, a family of concentric 
ellipses, cut off by a vertical line through one of 
the conjugate foci. The parallel bands look as if 



84 



A WILD SCENE. 



they had been forced upwards by a thrust from some 
wedge-shaped mass, and then gently laid over on 
their sides, with such care as not to interfere in 
the least with theregularity of their formation. 

The valley of the GhTre now bends to the left, 
and as our path winds over the shoulder of the 
mountain, a view of no common magnificence opens 
upon us. When we look towards the opposite 
side of the valley, the Pointe de Salles, which has 
hitherto been the prominent object on our left, now 
takes its place on the right hand of the picture, 
while the left is occupied by the extremity of a 
dark and massive mountain range presented to the 
spectator "end on," and running backwards in a 
direction nearly parallel with the Chaine des Fys, 
of which the Pointe de Salles is the eastern peak. 
These two points might be likened to the bastions at 
each extremity of a face of fortification, and the 
curtain connecting them is a lower sweep of mingled 
precipice and wood, presenting one of the wildest 
nooks to be found among the Alps. Abrupt walls 
of dark crag rise one above another to a height not 
perhaps exceeding two or three thousand feet, but 
from the proximity of our point of view having all 
the grandeur of much vaster proportions. Each 
successive tier of nature's masonry rests on a slope 



A WILD SCENE. 



85 



of earthwork, but there is a striking contrast be- 
tween the two halves of the picture. On the left, 
the faces of crag are lower, and form a less impor- 
tant feature in the scene; it is not till a consider- 
able height has been attained that they assume any 
grand proportions: the lower slopes are profusely 
clad with forest trees of stately growth and varie- 
gated foliage, while above, the mountain breaks 
away into perpendicular faces of sombre crag, 
marked by strangely-contorted lines of stratifica- 
tion. On the right, the scene preserves the barren 
and precipitous character which belongs to the Pointe 
cle Salles; and the wooded slopes on the left give 
way to a series of irregular banks of black shale, — 
looking like the ruins of a mountain — separated 
by lofty walls of bare crag. The extremes of de- 
solation and of richness are thus brought together 
in magnificent contrast; near the banks of the 
Giffre, even the gloomy masses of black debris can- 
not refuse to wear the cheerful livery of the forest 
green. Far above, from the barrenest and most 
distant point in the amphitheatre, a beautiful moun- 
tain torrent — the outpouring of the Lac d'Anterne 
— shoots over a wall of rock, and finds a momentary 
hiding-place in the broken debris at its base ; an 
instant afterwards it comes forth again, and plunges 

G 3 



86 



CASCADES DE LA JOUBAS. 



with a bolder leap down a loftier precipice ; it is 
lost again, and once more reappears on the brink of 
a third face of rock. Before it reaches the GifFre, 
it has disappeared and come to light again no less 
than five or six times ; thus marking its descent by 
a series of beautiful waterfalls — the Cascades de la 
J oubas — which not only enliven the scene by their 
irregular disposition, their sparkling aspect, and 
their dancing outlines, but by their diminishing 
perspective give an almost magical air of distance 
and vastness to the scenery. Often as I have passed 
along this path, I have seldom been able to refrain 
from stopping for some minutes to take in the full 
charms of this scene of wild and varied beauty. 

From this point the valley becomes narrower, and 
the scenery assumes a wilder and more gorge-like 
character. The slopes along which our path is car- 
ried become steeper and steeper : above and below 
us are charming alternations of beech coppices and 
strips of grass land, as trim and closely shaven as an 
English lawn. The wall of limestone precipices 
crowning the heights on our left, at once increases 
in height, and draws nearer to our path, with every 
onward step. Romantic hollows seam the mountain- 
side, like deep furrows, each the channel of a water- 
course, insignificant enough in dry weather, but 



BEAUTIFUL RAVINES. 



87 



attaining considerable dimensions during and after 
rain. Some of these little mountain bays present 
scenes of great wildness. Along the course of the 
stream the rock is denuded of its covering of trees, 
even the soil being swept away ; there is an unin- 
terrupted view to the precipices above, and to the 
dark bed of the Giffre below ; and you may look 
upwards through an interminable vista of rich and 
variegated foliage, and see a light feathery waterfall 
dancing gracefully down a grand limestone crag 
apparently just above your head, while on turning 
round you catch one glimpse of the foaming torrent 
of the Giffre, and perhaps hear faintly the roar of its 
waters hurrying by at a great distance below. In 
the month of September, when the forests are dyed 
with the russet hues of autumn, and when the sides 
of the little ravines are thickly spangled with the 
large bright blue flowers of the gentiana ciliata, no- 
thing can exceed the beauty of some of these ravines. 

In one place, a great pine tree stands like a tall 
beacon by the side of the path, towering in solitary 
pride to a height of from 100 to 150 feet — its stem 
as straight as an arrow, broken by not a single branch 
for the first fifty or sixty feet ; in another, a little 
foot-path leads down one of the steepest of the steep 
slopes of grass, and following its course with our 



88 



THE PATH OF THE AVALANCHES. 



eyes, we see that the dark gorge, hundreds of feet 
below us, is spanned by a frail bridge of rough fir 
poles, affording a wild and gloomy passage into the 
great forests that clothe the opposite bank. We 
keep constantly winding somewhat to the left; 
wherever a break in the wood shows us more of the 
distant prospect, we see that the precipices of the 
Buet itself are coming into sight ; and at length we 
emerge from the wood and gain a grassy knoll, 
whence for the first time we get a view of the head 
of the valley, and of the beautiful plateau on which 
the Chalets des Fonds are built. The knoll is itself 
so pleasantly situated, and the pastures above it are 
so green and fresh, that one almost wonders to see it 
crowned by no chalets of its own ; but the eye of 
the practised mountaineer will soon observe that it 
is in a line with a sort of furrow in the slopes above — 
that a few chalets used by the peasants to whom the 
upper pastures belong are carefully placed on the 
highest part of a ridge by the side of the furrow — 
and that in the line of the furrow itself every tree 
and shrub is gone ; and he will be at no loss to sus- 
pect, what is the fact, that this tempting spot is 
swept by the avalanches of spring, and that anything 
erected upon it would assuredly be hurled, before a 
year had passed, into the torrent of the GifFre. 



THE BUET. 



89 



The lofty wall of limestone on the left now 
recedes, and in places the slopes of pasture-land 
reach to such a height as almost to conceal the pre- 
cipices by which they are everywhere surmounted. 
The wooded heights on the opposite bank of the 
GifTre push forward their bases so as to occupy 
nearly half of the picture, and the contracted valley 
of the GhTre opens out into a wide amphitheatre 
of magnificent precipices, bearing aloft at a vast 
height the glaciers of the Buet. The precipices are 
loftiest and most abrupt towards the left, in the 
deepest recess of the horse-shoe ; here, however, 
they are partially concealed by slopes of wood and 
pasture-land, similar to those already passed; but 
advancing further towards the centre of the view, 
and immediately in front of us, is one of those for- 
mations which look as if they were meant to give 
strength and solidity to the gigantic wall of natural 
masonry above — a great spur of mountain, banked 
up against the crags of the Buet, and falling away 
right and left on each side of a definite ridge, till 
the lateral slopes meet some similar formation, where 
the line of their junction is marked by the stream 
that steals down between them. This " buttress of 
an Alp" — to use Mr. Buskin's felicitous expression 
— is partly clad with luxuriant forests, composed in 



90 



THE CHALETS DES FONDS. 



the upper regions of fir-trees only, in the lower, 
slightly interspersed with beech ; but the central 
ridge, and a large portion of both faces, consist of 
some of the finest grass-land in the Alps. Indeed, 
the pasturages of " Les Ponds," as they are called, 
enjoy a reputation second to none in this district 
except those of " Les Salles," above the cascade of 
" La Pleureuse ; " and for the purpose of tending 
the cattle annually brought hither to feed, and of 
carrying on the operations of the dairy, a village of 
not less than fifty or sixty chalets has been built on 
the upper portion of a small plateau not much 
higher than the knoll on which we stand. 

Descending a short distance, and passing beneath 
the welcome shade of a wood of beautiful beeches, 
through whose slender foliage the straggling sun- 
beams dart and play in fitful patterns on the moss- 
grown bank, we draw rapidly near to the torrent, 
now but a few yards below us. Presently, emerging 
from the trees, we come upon a rude bridge across 
the principal arm of the stream which pours from 
the left, fed chiefly, as its turbid aspect shows, by 
the meltings of the glaciers of the Buet. The 
smaller branch — a comparatively insignificant ri- 
vulet, called the Kuisseau des Ponds — descends 
from the other side of the Montague des Ponds, and 



THE PLATEAU DES PONDS. 



91 



issuing from a dark and romantic gorge a few yards 
to the right of the bridge, instantly loses its indi- 
viduality, and sinks into a petty tributary of the 
GhTre. 

Quitting the friendly shelter of the wood, we 
mount a bare hill-side by short and clumsy zig-zags,, 
and in a very few minutes arrive upon the te Plateau 
des Fonds." The plateau itself is only a tolerably 
level piece of pasture-land, some few acres in extent, 
but surrounded by scenery of no common grandeur. 
It is placed nearly in the centre of tbe great amphi- 
theatre of precipices which opened on us at the 
grassy knoll whence we first caught sight of the 
chalets ; but it is only from this spot that their full 
extent can be seen, or their magnificence appre- 
ciated. They stretch in one long dark and frowning 
wall from north to south-east of tbe spectator, at- 
taining their greatest height, and presenting their 
wildest aspect, about midway between the two ex- 
tremities of the arc. At its northern end they are 
crowned by grass-land so steep as to make one 
wonder that even Alpine sheep and Alpine shep- 
herds dare to trust themselves upon its slippery sur- 
face just above those tremendous crags. As the 
precipices increase in height, however, the strip of 
verdure diminishes in breadth ; and from the middle 



92 



PKECIPICES OF THE BUET. 



of the horse-shoe to its south-eastern point, the line 
of bare rock either stands out sharply against the 
sky, or is capped by a glistening patch of glacier. 
In several places the dark surface of the crag is 
dashed by a streak of white foam, or seen through 
the waving medium of a thin web of water-drops, 
swayed to and fro by every passing breath of air. 

It is difficult to estimate heights correctly by the 
eye, still more so to judge of them from recollection, 
but I think the loftiest portion of this magnificent 
crescent cannot be less than 2500 or 3000 feet in 
height. JSTor is the south-eastern extremity of the 
arc of less imposing aspect, though its crags are not 
on so colossal a scale ; for their inferiority in ele- 
vation is due, not so much to a lowering of the actual 
outline of the ridge, as to the height attained by the 
pastures of Les Fonds, and the rich growth of fir- 
wood which protects them from the avalanches of 
April and May. In fact, by climbing to the summit 
of the pastures, access may be gained to the crags 
above ; they are broken by narrow rifts, cut far into 
the substance of the mountain by the torrents of 
spring, and, by their depth of shadow, throw out the 
intervening masses into a bold relief that makes 
them look like the outworks and watch-towers of a 
gigantic fortress. They belong in fact to a kind of for- 



ASCENT TO THE BUET. 



93 



mation which gives a very peculiar and wonderful cha- 
racter to a deep valley opening beyond them, further to 
the south, by which the ascent of the Buet and the pas- 
sage of the Col de l'Echaud are made. A small portion 
of this valley is seen from the Plateau des Fonds, but 
it is not nearly enough to give an accurate notion of 
the true character of the scenery ; nor is it till a mile 
or two further along the path towards the Buet that 
one gets the least idea of the depth and wildness of 
this great inlet, when, on rounding a projecting spur 
of the mountain, you come suddenly upon it. The 
part of the valley visible from the plateau is seen 
over a great fir forest. It is obviously but the 
opening to a deeper recess, which the imagination is 
free to picture as beautiful as it will. Patches of 
steeply-sloping soil, however, perched among the 
precipices, and clad with a sturdy growth of shrubs, 
create a pleasant variety in the prospect ; and it is 
interesting to know that they are still an occasional, 
if no longer a favourite, haunt of the chamois, 

Turning, lastly, to the west, we look down the 
valley by which we have ascended ; the Pointe de 
Salles is now on our left, though only its loftiest 
point can be seen soaring above the nearer mountain 
ranges. As we stand at the edge of the plateau, 
under the welcome shade of some splendid fir-trees, 



94 



TIEW DOWN THE VALLE1. 



we see that we are upon a tongue of land, bounded 
by the converging waters of the Ruisseau des Fonds 
on the left, and of the Giffre on the right ; we look 
down a steep fir-clad slope, and have the little bridge 
arid the junction of the streams at our feet; and it is 
pleasant to catch here and there through openings 
in the woods bright gleams of light reflected from 
the rushing waters, as the impetuous torrent hurries 
from the chafing impediments which vex it in its 
earlier course, to seek the gentler declivities and 
softer bed awaiting it in the pleasant valleys far 
below. 

Circumstances which I am croinor to mention have 
given this wild spot and the very lovely valley 
leading to it a special interest in my eyes; and 
while I cannot help acknowledging the possibility 
that they may have insensibly led me to over-esti- 
mate its attractions, they certainly afford the most 
conclusive proof of the sincerity of my admiration. 
A portion of the Plateau des Fonds, and of the wild 
ravines beneath it, belongs to me; and just on the 
spot which commands the finest view of all, a chalet 
is fast rising which I can call my own ; and though 
I certainly should not trouble the reader with 
matters affecting myself only, the circumstances 
connected with my acquisition of the land were so 



FIRST VIEW OF LES FONDS. 



95 



curious, and threw such a light upon the character 
of the people and upon some of the most powerful 
influences then at work in Sardinian politics — this 
part of Sardinia then had a constitutional and politi- 
cal existence — that I think a short account of them 
will be found not wanting in interest, though it be 
but the melancholy interest attaching to the departed 
life of a once free province. 

It was in the month of August, 1857, that I first 
saw the Plateau des Fonds. I was descending from 
the summit of the Buet in company with Balmat 
and an English friend. The scenery struck us as 
uncommon in character and unique in beauty, and 
as we stood at the edge of the level ground, it 
passed through my mind what a glorious site it 
would be for a chalet. A day or two afterwards 
we both wished to revisit the spot, for we could 
neither of us call to mind in our Alpine experiences 
a view that had pleased us equally. Finding that 
our second visit did but strengthen our impres- 
sions of the rare beauty of the scenery, the passing 
thought of the former day returned, and began to 
assume the character of a definite wish. I set to 
work to make inquiries about the price of land in 
the neighbourhood, and the ownership of this par- 
ticular spot. The value of land I found to be 



96 



COMMUNAL INSTITUTIONS. 



moderate enough — about 200 francs per "journal," 
(or somewhere about 8/. an acre,) being esteemed a 
high price for anything in that vicinity. The land 
in question, however, I found to be part of an exten- 
sive district of pasture-land and forest belonging to 
the "commune" of Sixt — a division in civil affairs 
somewhat answering to a parish in ecclesiastical 
matters — owned in fee simple by the "commune " in 
general, but subject to rights of pasturage and wood- 
cutting, which might be exercised by every pro- 
prietor of land in the commune. This was not an 
encouraging state of things to deal with; and, 
had I been aware what would be involved in the 
undertaking, I should probably have hesitated 
before making the attempt. The affairs of a com- 
mune are managed by councillors elected for a cer- 
tain term by the persons liable to communal imposts 
and possessing communal rights. At Sixt the coun- 
cil consisted of fifteen members, including the Syndic 
and Vice- Syndic, who are a sort of mayor and deputy 
mayor, elected triennially by the council. The 
council of a commune, I learned, could sell land be- 
longing to the commune, but the resolutions upon 
which the sale was to be founded must be passed 
either at one particular meeting of the council, or at 
a meeting specially summoned for the purpose by the 



SALE BY A COMMUNE. 



07 



Intendant, the chief civil officer of the province. 
The matter was not ended, however, with the deli- 
beration of the council, but the resolution must 
receive the sanction of the Intendant, and be con- 
firmed by a sort of judicial inquiry held by the 
"juge de paix," assisted by experts, in order to 
ascertain that the council is not parting with the 
property of the commune at a price below the 
market value. The whole proceedings had then to 
be laid before the Minister of the Interior, who 
might' exercise his discretion as to whether they 
should be ratified or not. It was not until they had 
received the royal approbation, under the sign- 
manual, that the sale could be carried out. What 
the formalities may now be, under the Imperial 
rule, I cannot tell. 

I was obliged to leave Sixt without prosecuting 
the matter, and was not able to return till the middle 
of September, when I proceeded at once to sound 
the communal authorities. I applied, in the first 
instance, to Monsieur Pasquier, a respected notary 
of Samoens, and secretary to the commune of Sixt, 
by whom I was introduced to the Syndic, the Vice- 
Syndic, and several of the councillors — all peasants 
of the district, but numbering amongst them some 
very intelligent and business-like men. The follow - 

H 



9S 



PROPOSAL TO PURCHASE. 



ing day happened to be Sunday, when, after morn- 
ing mass, the sittings of the council are held, and 
the Syndic took the opportunity of mentioning my 
proposal and seeing how it was likely to be re- 
ceived. It was agreed that on the Monday I should 
go up to Les Fonds with as many of the council 
as chose to attend, and point out to them exactly 
what I wished to buy. This was done, and I met 
some eight or nine of the council on the spot, 
and pointed out what I should like to acquire, and 
explained my objects in proposing to purchase* 
My explanations appeared to give general satisfac- 
tion, and we parted excellent friends, every one 
assuring me that I might command his vote. It 
was arranged that I should go to Bonneville, and 
obtain, if possible, the authority of the Intendant 
for the holding of a special sitting of the council on 
the Sunday following, and return to Sixt before 
that day to make my formal proposition for the 
purchase. 

The then Intendant of the Province of Faucigny 
was the Count d'Elia, who has since been removed 
to the higher Intendancy of the Province of Sallu- 
ces, a Piedmontese gentleman of excellent family, 
and the husband of an accomplished and amiable 
English lady ; a zealous and vigorous administrator, 



OPPOSITION. 



99 



and a man of enlarged and liberal views. It is im- 
possible for me to express too strongly my sense of 
the courtesy with which a hearing was granted, and 
the promptitude with which all the assistance that 
official activity could give was rendered to me. The 
same day that I called upon the Xntendant, I re- 
turned to Chamouni, which was then my head- 
quarters, and before I had reached my destination, 
the official authority to the Syndic, to hold an ex- 
traordinary meeting of the council, was on its way 
to Sixt. 

The following Saturday I repaired again to Sixt, 
but soon found that an influence had been at work, 
the strength of which I had been led by Monsieur 
Pasquier, and others, to undervalue. The cure of 
Sixt is an ecclesiastic of the old regime, to whom 
the growing independence and political activity of 
the people had been as gall and wormwood, and 
who sighed for the good old days before the Consti- 
tution of 1848, when clerical influence predominated 
in the state, when all discussion of political or ec- 
clesiastical matters was rigidly suppressed, and when 
men even on the bare mountain-sides or on the 
trackless glaciers would 'bate their breath and look 
round them with the caution of habitual suspicion, 
if they ventured to utter a word of comment on the 



100 



STATE OF PARTIES. 



powers that be, from the King to the Commissary of 
Police, or from the Archbishop of Turin to the 
" Vicaire " of the parish. For some years past, be- 
fore the late " cession " was mooted, the priesthood 
not only of Savoy, but throughout Sardinia, had 
occupied a vastly different position, and it is difficult 
for any one who has not had the opportunity of 
seeing a little below the surface, to conceive the 
bitter dislike and rooted suspicion with which the 
priesthood, as an order, were regarded almost every- 
where by the friends of constitutional government 
and moderate reform throughout the kingdom. All 
expression of these, or any other political feelings, 
will now in all probability be effectually put a stop 
to under the Imperial rule ; but at the time I speak 
of, it appeared that the inveterate jealousy enter- 
tained towards the priests was scarcely likely to 
subside until they were satisfied to confine them- 
selves to their legitimate functions and to abandon 
their pretensions to political power. It could not 
be expected that they on their part should succumb 
without a struggle, and hence arose an actual alien- 
ation from the church, or at least from the hierarchy, 
of a great portion of the intelligence and worth of 
the Sardinian people. A few months later, namely, 
in the early part of 1858, this mutual repulsion was 



VIEWS OF THE CURE. 



101 



carried to a still greater length ; for at the several 
elections which then took place, the priestly party 
made a desperate effort to recover their lost ground ; 
an effort which signally failed, and resulted both in 
reducing their influence still lower than it was be- 
fore, and in embittering the hostility with which 
they were regarded by those who styled themselves 
the " friends of progress." 

When I began my negotiations, I was guided, 
naturally enough, by the advice of Monsieur Pas- 
quier and other persons of the " advance " party ; 
who certainly underrated the strength of Monsieur 
le Cure and his friends. When I proposed to go 
and see the cure and endeavour to disarm his ap- 
prehended opposition, they assured me such a step 
was needless, and that I need not trouble myself 
about his power. Sixt, however, is just one of those 
remote places where the influence of the priesthood 
was likely to be strongest and most durable ; and 
naturally enough, with his political and social views, 
the cure did not approve of the proposal of an 
Englishman, of all people in the world, to come and 
build himself an habitation, though it were only 
for an occasional long- vacation sojourn, within his 
parish. Visions of ee a protestant propaganda," 
and perhaps of French translations of Exeter Hall 

H 3 



102 



ARGUMENTS OF THE OPPOSITION. 



tracts against the Pope and auricular confession (for 
Monsieur le Cure is a gentleman of learning and 
education, and well acquainted with what is passing 
in the world beyond his valley) started up before his 
eyes, and he resolved that the foreign intruder should 
not come to be a thorn in his side if he could help 
it. Accordingly, I found on my return to Sixt that 
no stone had been left unturned to get a majority in 
the council to take the high conservative view of 
the question. There would be a protestant crusade 
in the valley; domestic purity would suffer even 
more severely than religious orthodoxy, one in- 
truder would give rise to another, and their " mon- 
tagnes " (sufficient for many times the number of 
cattle at present pastured upon them), would be cut 
up into building patches to satisfy the vagaries of 
English taste ; then the cattle and goats would stray 
over the land of this English aristocrat, who would 
impound them and refuse to release them except 
upon payment of exorbitant compensation ; besides 
it was all nonsense about his wanting to build a 
place for autumn recreation ; would he be likely to 
come a thousand miles from home for such a pur- 
pose ? The fact was, he had found the vein of gold 
ore Jacques Balmat had failed to discover ; and 
their forests — the pricle and wealth of the valley — 



ARGUMENTS OF THE OPPOSITION. 103 



would be destroyed to find fuel for his smelting 
furnaces — or if not that, he wanted to build an 
hotel, or some similar abomination ; and why should 
they be condemned to have their valley overrun by 
foreigners, like that of Chamouni ? 

I cannot say of my own knowledge, of course, 
that all these remarkable objections emanated from 
the cure ; I only know that I have been assured 
they did over and over again both by friends and 
opponents, and that that gentleman himself did not 
disclaim having taken a ver}' active part against me, 
when, after the matter was all settled, I wrote to 
him and called upon him to express the hope that 
we should not be the worse friends for having taken 
different views on a subject in which both were in- 
terested. But from whatever quarter they came, I 
found they had quite altered the aspect of things in 
the five days between my two visits. The argu- 
ments which seemed to have the greatest weight 
were, naturally enough, those which were most pal- 
pably absurd. The gold mine was a great stum- 
bling-block, and the destruction of forests in the 
valley of the Bas Giffre, where the iron works had 
been carried on, was triumphantly appealed to as a 
fair measure of the apprehended calamity. Then, 
my modest request to be allowed to pasture a single 



104 



COUNT D'ELIA. 



cow for six weeks on the vast feeding grounds of 
the commune was made great use of against me. 
It would " gener leur montagne," just as, by my 
arbitrary and oppressive proceedings in respect of 
strayed cattle, I should enrich myself at the ex- 
pense of my poor neighbours. Incredible as it 
may seem, even the hotel argument was gravely 
urged and seriously discussed. Eventually, it ap- 
peared that there would be six in favour of my 
proposition and seven against it, if it went to the 
vote, but that some of the majority would not 
object to grant me a lease for thirty years upon 
certain very stringent conditions. 

I considered the business at an end, but asked 
Monsieur Pasquier to give me a copy of the prods- 
verbal — the minutes of the meeting — which con- 
sisted of a very faithful abstract of the general dis- 
cussion, drawn up by himself and signed by the 
Syndic and some of the councillors ; and on the 
following day I went to Bonneville, on my way 
home to England, where I called on the Count 
d'Elia and showed it to him. He pointed out to 
me that, no vote having been actually taken, the 
question was still open, and begged me not to let 
the matter rest, but to execute a power of attorney 
in favour of some person in whom I had confidence, 



COUNT D'ELIA. 



105 



and to leave all the rest to him, assuring me that 
my interests should be attended to — an assurance 
more than carried out by him, as the sequel will 
show. So handsome an offer could only be grate- 
fully accepted ; I gave Balmat a power of attorney 
to act for me, and then returned to England. 
Count d'Elia thought it the more prudent course 
to let the matter sleep until the strong feeling 
excited by the recent debate had somewhat evapor- 
ated ; but towards the close of the autumn he not 
only convoked another extraordinary meeting of the 
council, but took the trouble to go himself from 
Bonneville to Sixt — four or five hours' journey — 
in order to be present at the deliberation, and to 
assist the council by his advice, as he was by law 
entitled, should he think fit, to do. The sitting 
was a long and stormy one. Fourteen out of the 
fifteen councillors were present; and so high did 
party feeling run, that both the Intendant and Mon- 
sieur Pasquier were grossly insulted by two of the 
recalcitrant members. At length a vote was taken, 
when the numbers were exactly equal — seven and 
seven — the Intendant having the right to be present 
and to join in the discussion, but not to vote. Count 
d'Elia then turned to the article of the law appli- 
cable to such a case, and in conformity with it called 



106 



A COUNCILLOR TOO LATE. 



upon the Syndic to give his casting vote. The 
Syndic had all along been one of my most zealous 
friends, believing with the Xntendant that anything 
which could tend to open the valley of Sixt to 
strangers, and to bring the population in contact 
with the rest of the world, would be greatly to the 
interest of the district. The resolution to sell the 
land was, therefore, carried by the casting vote of 
the chairman. I was assured by every one that 
nothing but the great tact and temper of the In- 
tendant could have brought about this result. 
Curiously enough, the vote had scarcely been taken, 
when the fifteenth councillor, who was a furious 
opponent of the project, walked in and claimed to 
vote ; but it was too late, the resolution was already 
carried and the vote recorded. I have always 
accused Balmat or some other of my zealous friends 
of having contrived that his boots should be mislaid 
that morning ; but they do not confess to any such 
manoeuvre. 

It might be supposed that the substantial part of 
the business was now accomplished, and that the 
rest would be mere matter of form ; but it was no 
such thing. Beaten in the council, the opposition 
betook themselves to memorialising the Minister of 
the Interior against the authorisation of the sale. 



PETITIONS AND COUNTER-PETITIONS. 



107 



Petitions were hawked about the commune of Sixt 
and the neighbouring commune of Samoens ; and 
even from Paris, whither a great number of the 
young men of this valley constantly resort to exer- 
cise their vocations as stone-masons, carpenters, and 
waiters, sheets upon sheets of signatures were for- 
warded to Turin protesting against the measure. 
Some persons of considerable political influence 
were induced also to bestir themselves ; and the 
Minister hesitated long which way to decide. By 
this time, however, the whole of the neighbouring 
districts had taken up the question as a case of pro- 
gress or retrogression, and very active influence 
was used by gentlemen of Samoens and the neigh- 
bourhood, to whom I was personally a complete 
stranger, but who considered it of great importance 
that the priestly view of the question should not 
prevail. Fortunately for me, just at this time my 
kind friend the Count d'Elia was promoted to the 
Intendancy of Salluces, not far from Turin; and 
when he went up to the capital on receiving this 
appointment, he took care that the Minister should 
be fully possessed of his views : and at length, in 
the spring of 1858, the requisite authorisation was 
signed by the king, and nothing remained but to 
take the formal steps necessary to complete the 



108 THE CONVEYANCE EXECUTED. 

purchase. Here, however, difficulties again pre- 
sented themselves. The delegates named by the 
council to execute the conveyance refused to have 
anything to do with it, and at one time I was afraid 
I should have to proceed against them by a kind of 
mandamus : however, after a great deal of trouble, 
which I am sorry to say fell heavily upon my 
friends rather than upon myself, the difficulty was 
got over by another exercise of the royal prerogative 
in the nomination of the new Intendant of the pro- 
vince, Monsieur Felix de Bergoens, as the repre- 
sentative of the commune for the purpose of exe- 
cuting the act of sale. In consequence of all these 
delays, it was not till the month of July, 1858, that 
the conveyance was actually executed. Of course, 
under the circumstances, I paid more for the land 
than it was worth. Guided by the advice of the 
Count d'Elia, I offered more than twice its market 
value, or about 16/. per "journal; " had I not done 
so, I should never have had it at all. It was 
curious to see that the jealousy of my pounding the 
cattle continued to the last ; for in the conveyance 
it is stipulated, not only that I shall properly enclose 
my purchase, but that I shall not seize any cattle 
or goats that may stray thereupon. 

An English lawyer reading this account would, I 



EXPENSE OF PURCHASE. 



109 



think, see in it the elements of a pretty heavy 
solicitor's bill. He will be as much surprised as I 
was, to learn that beyond the ordinary expenses of 
conveyance, stamps, fees, and the like, which are 
not light in Sardinia, the whole affair did not cost 
me 20/., nor anything like it. The expenses would 
no doubt have been much greater had I not from 
first to last been backed with a thorough goodwill 
by every official personage. There was, at that 
time, an incredible amount of " circumlocution " in 
Sardinia : the formalities to be gone through in 
dealing with any sort of public right were abso- 
lutely endless, and had there been the least un- 
willingness on the part of the authorities to help me, 
my project would inevitably have been smothered 
in the slough of despond of official routine. But 
whatever may be the faults of the administrative 
system, Sardinia — or what is left of her — is happy 
indeed if her high public servants in general are 
like the only two with whom I have had to deal, 
both of whom I have found accessible at all times, 
prompt and vigorous in action, free from official 
mystery and reserve in speech, and full of wise and 
liberal views on social and political questions. Of 
my obligations to the Count d'Elia, and my high 
estimate of his character and qualities, I have 



110 



MONSIEUR DE BEKGOENS. 



already spoken. His successor, Monsieur de Ber- 
goens, is one of the most enlightened men I have 
the pleasure of knowing ; and as an administrative 
officer, I believe he has few equals. The prompti- 
tude and regularity with which business was des- 
patched in his office, were something extraordinary ; 
and no one, I believe, can be found who has ever 
had occasion to approach him in his official capacity 
who is not loud in his praises of his courtesy, 
frankness, and accessibility. Travellers who visited 
Chain ouni last autumn, and who were familiar with 
it in previous years, found out the difference to 
their comfort and convenience, as well as to their 
purses, effected by the recent alterations in the 
odious regulations as to guides, which had been so 
long felt as an intolerable annoyance : it is right 
thev should know that it is in no small degree to 
the energy, patience, and perseverance of Monsieur 
de Bergoens that they owe the improvement that 
has taken place. 

1 fear this narrative has already grown long 
enough ; but I must add a few words as to some 
subsequent occurrences, because they illustrate a 
trait of the national character exceedingly creditable 
to the people, and which at the time it was impos- 
sible to help looking upon as most hopeful for the 



OUR RECEPTION IN 1858. Ill 

future prospects of constitutional government in 
Sardinia, as far at least as the Savoyards were 
concerned. 

I went abroad again in the autumn of 1858, and 
Sixt was naturally the first place I was anxious to 
visit. I wrote to Balmat to meet me at Sixt on the 
15th of August, but took no other steps to announce 
my arrival. Indeed, knowing the dissensions to 
which my proposal had given rise, I felt inclined 
rather to sneak in unobserved than to proclaim my 
coming beforehand. We reached Samoens, about 
two hours' walk from Sixt, between three and four 
o'clock in the afternoon of the 15th of August ; and 
as my friends were not less struck than I had for- 
merly been with the beauty of the place, we deter- 
mined to sleep there and go on the next morning. 
Before dinner could be served, I was told that a 
deputation from Sixt wished to see me ; and I 
found three or four of the councilmen waiting to 
assure me, in the name of the commune, that a 
hearty welcome would be given to us by all parties, 
and that I need not fear the slightest unpleasantness 
in consequence of what had taken place. The most 
resolute of my antagonists, they said, had opposed 
me on public grounds, and because they thought it 
would be better for the valley that I should not 



112 



A SERENADE. 



establish myself there ; but now the matter was 
once decided, their only wish was to receive us as 
friends, and to offer us every facility for carrying on 
our operations. They had come from Sixt to seek 
me, and to offer to my wife and myself the expres- 
sion of their goodwill. Such assurances were very 
pleasant, and afforded no little relief to my wife, 
who did not much fancy settling amongst a popu- 
lation to whom we might be objects of dislike. 

This was not all, however ; that evening, to our 
great surprise, as we sat in the balcony, we were 
serenaded by an excellent band, composed of pretty 
nearly all the gentry of Samoens and the neigh- 
bourhood. My friend, Monsieur Pasquier, played 
the trombone, and the brother of the Syndic of 
Samoens — one of the wealthiest proprietors of the 
district — was the leader. I found, upon my thank- 
ing these gentlemen for the honour they did us, that 
our arrival was viewed as a matter of deep interest, 
inasmuch as it marked the triumph of liberal views 
over exclusive and antiquated prejudices. The 
serenade was followed by a salute of cannon, and by 
a very pretty display of fireworks. 

The next morning we found that our friends 
from Sixt had quite correctly represented the feel- 
ing of the people towards us. We were met half- 



KINDNESS OF ALL PARTIES. 



113 



way from Samoens by a deputation consisting in- 
differently of supporters and opponents, and wel- 
comed again, as we crossed the boundary of the 
commune, in the most kind and gratifying manner, 
while the rocks at the curious passage of Les Tines 
rang and rang again with the grand echoes of an- 
other salute. Similar honours awaited us as we 
passed through the market-place at Sixt, and an 
excellent lunch was provided for us by our hos- 
pitable friends. 

Nor was all this display mere show and talk. 
The spirit from which it proceeded was exem- 
plified in every transaction I had with the coun- 
cil. I had many requests to make for wood and 
stone, and sand, for the concession of the right to 
set up a saw-mill and a lime-kiln ; and had I 
had any sort of opposition to encounter, I should 
have found the autumn far too short to carry out 
the necessary arrangements for beginning to build 
in the following spring. But not a murmur was 
raised against me, and former friends and former 
opponents vied with one another as to which could 
serve me most effectually. I have already intimated 
that the official formalities to be gone through in 
Sardinia when any sort of public right is concerned, 
are something almost beyond belief, and I should 

i 



114 



OFFICIAL SUPPORT. 



very mucli doubt if business of the like kind was 
ever before, in Sardinia, carried successfully through 
all the necessary steps in so short time. From the 
communal and from the provincial authorities alike, 
I received nothing but the promptest attention and 
the most hearty support. Wherever we went we 
were met with smiling faces, and assurances that the 
people were glad to see us. It is true these words 
of welcome were often spoken in a patois very diffi- 
cult to understand — but it was impossible to mis- 
take their import or to doubt their sincerity. We 
should certainly have been killed had we drunk one 
quarter of the excellent milk that was offered us 
whenever we approached a chalet where cows were 
kept. We were at Sixt twice during the autumn, 
for several days each time, constantly visiting Les 
Fonds, and in constant intercourse with the popu- 
lation, and it is difficult to convey an adequate idea 
of the pleasant way in which we were uniformly 
greeted and treated by every one. 

Considering the angry feelings which had been 
excited about this matter, it must be allowed that 
the behaviour of the defeated minority did them 
great credit ; it seemed to me to indicate an apti- 
tude for constitutional government and free insti- 
tutions that one fondly hoped might angur well for 
the prosperity of Sardinia. These peasants of Sixt 



CAPACITY JTOR SELF-GOVERNMENT. 115 

appear to me to have fathomed the great secret of 
all constitutional government, and to have learned 
to recognise the duty of the minority to yield to the 
majority. " We had our own views of what was 
right," my former opponents said to me over and 
over again, " and while it was an open question, we 
resisted your proposition with all our might, and in 
every way the law allowed us. But it is decided 
now ; we have said our say, and given our votes ; 
we have been fairly beaten, and we do not wish 
either to complain of the result, or to struggle 
against the majority by opposing your requests for 
anything necessary to the full enjoyment of your 
property. We are now fellow-members of the same 
commune, and as such have the same interests." 

Surely, people who have learned to think, and 
speak, and act thus, have evinced a capacity for liberty 
and self-government which is very extraordinary in a 
nation so recently emancipated from arbitrary power. 
I was inclined at first to attribute this circumstance 
to their communal institutions; but I found on in- 
quiry that the character of these was altogether 
different before 1848 ; and that under the old 
regime the communal council — instead of beino* a 
representative body, fairly and freely elected by the 
votes of the inhabitants, independent of government 
I 2 



116 



FKEEDOM OF THE COUNCIL. 



influence or control, enjoying absolute liberty of 
speech, subject to no kind of external interference, 
and having the administration of the communal 
affairs entirely in its own hands — was merely a board 
nominated by the government, possessing little 
liberty of speech or action, and having, in fact, 
nothing in common with the present communal 
administration but a name, That the communal 
councils were, at the time I speak of, practically, as 
well as theoretically, free from government interfer- 
ence or influence, is shown by the incident above 
mentioned, of the two indignant councilmen offering 
a gross insult to the Intendant of their province. 

The reader must have had, once in his life, a 
hobby of his own, to be able to understand the full 
extent of the pleasure given to my wife and myself 
by the possession of the charming little spot I have 
endeavoured to describe. All beautiful scenery 
gains wonderfully by familiarity with its details, 
and the valley of Sixt seemed to us ever full of new 
charms each time we passed up it or down it. The 
last time we repaired thither was three or four days 
after my ascent of Monte Rosa, recorded in the last 
chapter of this volume. We approached it from 
the valley of the Rhone by the Val d'llliez, passing 
a night at Champery on our way. We arrived at 



BEAUTY OF LES FONDS. 



117 



Champery as late as nine o'clock in the evening. 
We were wonderfully impressed with that moon- 
light ride from St. Maurice, but were hardly pre- 
pared for the exquisite scene that broke upon us 
with the morning light. We had been long amongst 
the wildest and sternest scenery of the Alps, and 
two days before had made the passage of the Dia- 
blerets in weather which seemed in good keeping 
with the name, and all these circumstances com- 
bined by their contrast ' to quicken our sense of the 
rich and luxuriant beauties of Champery. The 
valley appeared to us, for the moment, the loveliest 
in creation, and we began to think, if not to say, 
(i Oh that we had seen this first ! " On inquiry, we 
found the price of land so prodigious, that any 
purchase there would have been hopelessly beyond 
our means, and we laid that consolation to our 
hearts. The next day we were at Sixt again, and 
took our favourite excursion; we were perfectly 
set at rest — Champery was not to compare with Les 
Fonds, and we were still able to pronounce our 
little plateau the most beautiful spot we knew. 

Of course we sought a pleasant name for it, and 
we wished to find, as most appropriate, some musical 
term in patois which should bear a characteristic 
meaning; but the patois of Sixt is not musical, 

I 3 



118 



" THE EAGLE'S NEST. 



whatever other recommendations it may boast, and, 
after much deliberation, almost the first name we 
had thought of seemed the best, and we formally 
designated it " The Eagle's Nest." I have me a- 
sured its height above Sixt several times, both by 
the barometer and by the boiling-water apparatus, 
and I find it to be in round numbers about 1950 
feet above Sixt; and as I estimate Sixt at about 
2350 feet above the level of the sea, this gives a 
height of 4300 for our eyrie — nearly the height of 
the top of Ben Nevis. 

While w T e were at Chamouni, in 1858, we agreed 
with a very worthy contractor of Sallenches, M. 
Grange, who has erected most of the principal 
buildings at Chamouni, for the construction of our 
chalet ; but we resolved that, if possible, the place 
should be from first to last our own hobby, and our 
only architect has been my wife. The very details 
of the building, the number of steps in the staircases, 
the arrangement of windows, doors, chimneys, and 
galleries, are all hers. The lines which I have adopted 
for the motto of this volume, and which are intended 
to be carved, after the Swiss fashion, along the 
base of the galleries, were written by her. M. Grange 
pronounced that her scale-drawings did not require 
correction, but would do to work from ; and I pre- 



"HE 



THE CHALET PLANNED. 



119 



suine, therefore, the original plans have been faithfully 
carried out. I was not able to go thither in 1859, 
and therefore have been obliged to trust implicitly, 
as I may safely do, to M. Grange and Balmat. We 
were last there on the 29th of September, 1858, and 
on that day we planted with our own hands the 
stakes which were intended to mark out the limits 
of the building, and the situations of the principal 
doors and windows. I remember well each of us 
standing in turn, supported by the other, on the 
ends of some of our newly-planted posts, to raise 
ourselves to the level of the ground floor, and see 
exactly what would be the views from each of the 
sitting-rooms. Balmat and I then laid out a beau- 
tiful winding-path, to lead from the bridge over the 
GifFre through our own little property up to the 
chalet, and with some difficulty I got my wife 
down by the projected route, and was glad to find 
that it pleased her taste as much as my own. As 
we left the plateau, avowedly for the last time that 
season, she said to me, " I wonder whether we shall 
ever be here together again ! " — words destined, 
alas ! to find a mournful echo in the commands of 
Providence. 

I have spoken of the kindness shown \o us by 
the people of the valley. The heartiness with 

I 4 



120 



OUR XEXGHBOURS. 



which we were greeted by our neighbours between 
Sixt and Les Fonds, whenever we appeared amongst 
them, was delightful. One day we had gone up tG 
within half an hour's walk of the Eagle's Nest, and 
were sketching and photographing the fine view of 
the plateau and the crags of the Buet behind it, 
when a peasant girl passed, coming from Les Ponds, 
picking hemp (pulling off, that is, the outside 
covering of the stalks) as she went along. We 
had not intended to go farther on that occasion, as 
there were a great number of people at work at the 
Chalets des Fonds, spreading manure over the 
ground, preparatory to leaving for the lower pas- 
tures, which they were about to do the next day. 
We learned from the girl, however, that we had 
been seen, and were anxiously expected by the 
good people above, and that it would cause great 
disappointment if we did not make our appearance. 
We thought, as this was the case, we had better go 
on ; so when we had dined, we left the photographic 
apparatus where it was, and pursued our way to 
the Eagle's Nest. After visiting our own ground, 
we went on to the chalets, where we found a large 
crowd waiting to welcome us. We were soon over- 
powered with offers of milk, and thinking it would 
please the good folks, we went with one woman to 



INTERIOR OF A CHALET. 



121 



her chalet to get some. The spaces or little streets 
between the rows of chalets are none of the cleanest, 
but we managed to pick our way to the door where 
the woman was waiting for us, and stooping, as was 
necessary, entered the chalet. It was almost dark, 
but the good woman went into a still darker inner 
room to get the milk, handing my wife a stool to 
sit upon. The only other articles in the room 
besides the stool, were a half-filled sack lying 
against the wall, and a large long-legged pig, very 
much at his ease, for he stalked about with a lordly 
air, and poked his long nose into every hole and 
corner. Presently my wife heard a little tinkle 
behind her, and looking round found a little calf 
rubbing its nose against her mantle, from behind a 
railing by which it was kept to its own portion of 
the room. Presently the woman came out from 
the inner sanctum with a small washing-tub half 
full of milk, which she offered to me to drink from, 
while she handed my wife some in a thick red 
earthenware cup. After we had drunk as much as 
we could and thanked our worthy hostess, we went 
into another chalet, where I had found what I 
thought would interest my wife, a baby packed up 
in a cradle, where it remained all day without 
moving hand or foot. It was eight months old, and 



122 



A MODEL BABY. 



seemed to me a model baby, for it was perfectly 
contented and never uttered a sound. There was 
soon a concourse of women in the chalet when they 
saw we stayed to look at the baby, and they all 
jabbered patois as fast as they could, and were 
extremely amused when we could not understand 
all they said. After shaking hands with them all 
round, we parted the best friends in the world. 

There is a curious similarity amongst nearly all 
the young women. The old ones are plain enough, 
but many of the young ones are pleasing ; all with 
rather flat faces and large features, but with a 
pleasant, good-tempered expression and bright eyes. 
It often happened that we could hardly tell the 
difference between one and another. They gene- 
rally go about with bare feet, and if they feel it a 
duty they owe to society to put on shoes on special 
occasions, get rid of them as soon as they can. We 
frequently used to meet them going barefoot up the 
steep hills, carrying a considerable weight in a basket 
balanced on their heads, and stripping the hemp as 
they went along. Nearly all the women, and many 
of the men and all the children, were dressed in a 
dark blue woollen home-spun stuff; the little 
children wear a dark close-fitting cap — almost a 
skull-cap ; even the little baby in the cradle had one. 



A NUMEROUS FAMILY. 



123 



Both men and women seemed proud of their 
pretty valley, for nearly all of them asked us if we 
did not find it 66 ben brave " — very pretty. The 
out-of-door life and the hard work they are accus- 
tomed to age them rapidly, and accordingly they 
were very much surprised at our young looks. 
They pronounced me to be about nineteen and my 
wife still younger, and could hardly be brought to 
believe that we had been married more than four 
years and had a couple of children at home. Large 
families seemed to us to be the rule. I remember 
one day passing a woman on our way home to Sixt, 
standing at the door of her chalet, rising out of the 
midst of a cluster of eight or ten small children ; 
and apparently with any number more in the back- 
ground. She stopped us to ask the usual questions 
— how old we were, and how many children we 
had. She did not seem at all satisfied with our 
modest allowance, whereupon Balmat, who had a 
joke for everybody, complimented her upon her own 
fine family. She laughed, and offered to make him 
a present of six. He immediately began fumbling 
in his pockets, and said, " Well, I have room here for 
three or four," whereupon the whole bevy vanished 
into the chalet in a paroxysm of fright. 



124 



CHAP. y. 



" He listened and looked up. I looked up too ; 
And twice there came a hiss that thro' me thrilled ! 
'Twas heard no more. A chamois on the cliff 
Had roused his fellows with that cry of fear, 
And all were gone." — Eogers. 



ASCENT FROM CHAMOUNI. — THE CASCADE BERARD. — THE "PIERRE 
BERARD." — ROUGH QUARTERS. — AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. — HOW 
WE PASSED THE NIGHT AND HOW THE GUIDES PASSED THE NIGHT. — 
DEEP STRLE. — DAYBREAK ON MONT BLANC. — THE SUMMIT. — SEA 
OF CLOUDS. — DESCENT TO SIXT. — A WDNDERFUL AMPHITHEATRE. — 
THE CHAMOIS. — FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF THE PLATEAU DES FONDS. — 
ASCENT FROM SIXT. — VIEW FROM THE COL DE l'eCHAUD. — SEVERE 
ATTACK OF ILLNESS. — A DILEMMA. — FORWARD ! — THE DISTANT 

CATTLE BELLS DEEP SNOW\ — THE CHALET BERARD REACHED. — 

A CLOSE BARGAIN. — A SIMPLE CURE. 



It was on the 16th of August 1857 that I started for 
my first trip to the Buet. I had arrived some days 
before from England, tired and jaded, and was dis- 



of mind did not seem to return so rapidly as I have 



THE BUET. 



appointed to find that vigour 




elasticity 



CURE FOR FATIGUE. 



125 



generally found to be the case under the influence 
of the pure air of the glaciers. I have sometimes 
noticed that there is nothing like a e( grande course " 
for "setting up," as the doctors would call it, the 
restorative processes ; but neither my friend W. nor 
myself felt very much disposed for one of the first 
magnitude — so we agreed to try the Buet as a sort 
of happy medium between the smaller and the really 
great excursions. A second excellent friend, R., 
with whom I crossed the Glaciers du Tour and de 
Salena, and ascended Mont Blanc, a few days later, 
was unable to leave the house owing to the reappear- 
ance of an old strain to the knee ; so we left him 
to the hospitable care of Madame Ferdinand, at the 
Hotel Royal, and started off a little after mid-day, 
accompanied by Balmat and Francois Cachat. We 
took the familiar track of the Tete Noire till we 
arrived just below the highest part of the pass, and 
there struck across to the left, passing amongst a 
vast accumulation of polished blocks, which showed 
how low the glaciers of the Aiguilles Rouges and the 
Buet had once descended. At this point you have 
just reached the easternmost extremity of the chain 
of the Aiguilles Rouges, which you must round ; 
for the valley that separates it from the system of 
the Buet lies at the back of the chain, as looked at 



126 



THE CASCADE BERARD. 



from Argentines. Indeed, it is not till you are 
nearly or quite at the highest part of the Tete Noire 
that you become aware of its existence ; till then the 
lofty black crags which form the northern barrier 
of the Val Orsine appear almost to join on to the 
system of the Aiguilles Rouges. In ascending the 
Val Orsine, as when coming from Martigny, the 
true state of the case is easy enough to discern, and 
a deep indentation is seen to separate the Aiguilles 
Rouges from the group of the Buet. 

At the entrance to this valley is situated one of 
the finest waterfalls in this part of the Alps — the 
Cascade Berard. It seems to me a pity for any 
traveller passing along the Tete Noire in either 
direction, to neglect the half hour or hour's detour 
which is needed to visit this picturesque and beau- 
tiful scene. When I first saw it, on our way to the 
Buet, we were enveloped in a thick drizzling rain, 
which prevented our seeing many hundred yards in 
any direction: notwithstanding this disadvantage, 
the Cascade Berard appeared to me even then to pre- 
sent such a scene of wildness and beauty combined 
as I had scarcely ever seen equalled. Rough 
boulders of the largest size and of every shape have 
fallen from the heights above and accumulated in 
the wildest disorder about the bed of the torrent. 




arkirke opening to tie Bust, as seen from "die Te'te TJoirs 



THE CASCADE BERARD. 



127 



They are covered with a soft tapestry of green 
moss, and from among them, out of clefts filled up 
with the debris of centuries, spring audacious moun- 
tain firs, crowning the tops of inaccessible precipices 
or nestled among groups of rugged crags. A con- 
siderable volume of water thunders over a huge 
projecting roof of limestone before taking its bold 
plunge of two or three hundred feet, and leaves a 
wild passage behind its little amphitheatre of water. 
In other places the fallen rocks have left deep caverns 
and grottoes, where you need artificial light to grope 
your way. In short, for one who cares for the de- 
tailed and individual beauties of nature as well as 
for the more comprehensive attractions of a grand 
prospect, it is a very delightful and interesting scene. 
I was glad to find, when passing through the Tete 
Noire again in 1858, that my impressions were con- 
firmed by a second visit, and that my admiration of 
the cascade was fully shared by my wife, who was 
then my companion. We had slept at one of the 
inns on the Tete Noire, on purpose to have a long 
day before us to sketch and photograph in this ex- 
quisite valley — the " sketcher's paradise," as it ap- 
peared to my companion — and we spent several 
hours most pleasantly, within two or three hundred 
yards of the cascade. 



128 



THE ce PIERRE BERARD." 



At the waterfall the torrent was crossed, and 
after a short halt at a chalet where some little re- 
freshment may be had, W. and I continued our 
route. We wound our way up a somewhat rugged 
path under the precipices of the Buet system, some- 
times over tolerably open slopes of grass, sometimes 
amongst scattered fir-woods, till we reached an 
alluvial plain of some extent, where the inclination 
is very slight. The great beauty of the entrance 
to this valley seems to hold out the promise of an 
interesting walk ; but it is a most deceptive invita- 
tion, for the valley is deep, savage, and monotonous, 
and the vegetation poor and scanty. For two or 
three miles we picked our way over the stony bed 
of the winter's torrent before we arrived at the foot 
of the actual ascent. The weather had cleared 
slightly, and we saw the glaciers of the Aiguilles 
Rouges on the right, of the Buet on the left, and 
those which cover the connecting ridge that lay in 
front of us, cradled on their beds of crag, and 
stretching; down towards us as if to invite us on- 
ward. A quarter of an hour's climb up a steep 
and stony <e Alp " brought us to the Chalet Berard, 
a little structure of which half was ready built by 
the hand of nature, there being a " Pierre Berard," 
under which formerly travellers and shepherds used 



THE CHALET BERAED. 



129 



occasionally to pass the night. A very small amount 
of labour and skill has turned this natural shelter 
into a chalet, consisting of a rock kitchen and larder, 
and two added rooms, each furnished with a bed, 
and one with a stove also. Above these was a sort 
of loft, which, when I went up a ladder to look at it, 
appeared full of wet bedsteads, sodden bedding, and 
a miscellaneous collection of household articles of 
one sort or another, all in a more or less advanced 
stage of damp and discomfort. This was our halting- 
place for the night. 

In coming up from the cascade, I had been walk- 
ing first, and had, of course, given the pace to the 
party. I was very conscious of being out of con- 
dition, and was tired, out of breath, and palpitating 
painfully, when, near the top of the last rise, I 
exclaimed to Balmat with some disappointment that 
I had no longer the strength I used to have, and 
that I was afraid my " grandes courses " were 
almost over. ee Oh but," he answered, u at what a 
pace you have come ; we usually reckon two good 
hours from the Cascade to the Chalet, and you have 
led us up in an hour and a quarter ; Cachat and I 
are bathed in perspiration." Balmat's remark at 
once surprised and comforted me, for I had the 
impression that I had been going slowly. I sup- 

K 



130 



AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL. 



pose it was the combination of the sense of feeble- 
ness and the fear of hindering my companions that 
had driven me on. 

We had brought up with us some mutton, some 
bread, and some champagne ; so we did pretty well, 
notwithstanding the drizzling rain that blocked out 
all ulterior prospects, and gave us very poor hopes 
for the morrow. We had hardly eaten our meal 
when the mist lifted for a moment, and disclosed, to 
our horror, four other travellers struggling up to 
the same refuge as ourselves. Considering that a 
week often passes without any one sleeping here 
besides a resident boy and girl, it was unlucky 
enough that this party should have chosen the same 
wet day as ourselves to begin their ascent. W. 
and I thought " first come, first served," was fairly 
applicable, and as we fancied the inner room was 
the more weather-tight of the two, we appropriated 
it, and placed upon the bed all the marks of pos- 
session we could. We had hardly arranged our 
traps in accordance with this view of the case before 
in burst three jolly Englishmen, as straight-forward 
and good-tempered fellows as one might chance to 
meet in a summer's wanderings, by whom our pre- 
sence was as unexpected as their arrival had been 
by us ; and we all burst into a hearty laugh at the 



HOW WE PASSED THE NIGHT. 



131 



rencontre, and at our mutual disappointment in find- 
ing that neither set could have the place to them- 
selves. 

W. and I betook ourselves about eight o'clock to 
our one small bed, and half undressing, lay down 
between the sheets. Generally speaking, if there 
be a flea within a mile he finds me out and is most 
assiduous in his attentions; yet on this occasion, 
oddly enough, though I learned that most of the 
other men were groaning, grumbling, and hunt- 
ing all the night long, I fell asleep at once and 
slept tranquilly till past one o'clock, and was hardly 
touched. A fire had been lighted in the stove, and 
I was in the hottest place in the hottest room, 
which became at length almost unbearable. I sup- 
pose it became too warm even for the industrious 
insects in question. Howbeit, at half-past one we all 
turned out. I had hung my flannel shirt on a nail ; 
some one had hung a macintosh on another nail 
close by it, and in the morning I w 7 as obliged actually 
to wring my shirt out ; a fact which shows what a 
soaking evening it had been. 

I went forth at once into the keen frosty air, and, 
stumbling over the rocks and boulders which were 
strewn about the steep side of the mountain, found 
the cold stream, whose brawling waters guided my 



132 HOW THE GUIDES PASSED THE NIGHT. 



ear to their stony bed; it was almost pitch dark, 
though the rain and mist were all gone, and the 
stars were shining brightly enough. An alfresco 
bath in such a temperature requires some determi- 
nation, but has a wonderfully freshening effect, and 
I returned to the hut quite ready for the early 
breakfast they w T ere preparing for us. I had the 
curiosity to inquire how the guides had fared. I 
could never ascertain the exact truth, but there ap- 
peared to be in the loft one bed — and I am sure, 
from what I saw, it must have been a wet one, — 
available for the young lady of the chalet, her 
brother, our two guides, and the two whom our 
unexpected companions had brought with them ; 
and, as far as I could make out, they passed the 
night sacre-ino; and " faisant la chasse." These little 
discomforts, however, never seem to interfere with 
the peace of mind of the guides : and, to judge by 
the peals of laughter we heard, they must have had 
almost as cheery a breakfast as we had. 

By a quarter to three we were all ready, and 
began what seemed in the dark a difficult and toil- 
some ascent up some steep and stony ravines, till 
we reached the end of the turf, or attempt at turf, 
and arrived at a system of rocks which do not belong 
to Buet itself, but form the link between it and the 



DEEP STRIDE. 



133 



Aiguilles Kou^es. These rocks are interesting to 
the glacialist, as affording instances of remarkably 
deep striation. By the imperfect light in which the 
still distant dawn was already heralding its approach, 
I could see some stria? full half an inch deep. It is not 
often that one sees them much more than half that 
depth. It was too cold, however, to linger for stria- 
tions or anything else ; the temperature was far 
below freezing, and the thousand points of light that 
flittered out of the black vault of heaven shone with 
a blanched and frosty lustre that made us feel al- 
most the colder for looking at them. Everything 
promised well for the coming day, and the white 
head of the Buet showing dimly through the dark- 
ness, seemed to be but a stone's-throw distant, and 
to beckon us forward. We cheerfully obeyed the 
call ; and turning to the right as soon as we reached 
the rocks, made our way over several beds of recent 
snow, crisp with the frost, and across some couloirs 
filled with great blocks of stone, on which yester- 
day's rain had spread a covering of ice. These passed, 
we gained at length the glacier which connects the 
Buet itself with the rocks on which we stood. We 
gladly left the slippery surfaces of crag for the 
pleasanter footing of the snow-clad glacier, and for 
about twenty minutes climbed straight up a steep 



134 



VIEW OF MONT BLANC. 



and uniform curtain of ice ; then turning again to 
the right, so as to be working back somewhat in the 
direction of the Yal Orsine, we began a rapid and 
laborious ascent up a series of craggy spurs and 
ridges, which lead nearly to the very summit of the 
Buet. 

The day was now approaching rapidly, and dis- 
tant objects began to stand out clear and sharp 
against the cold sky. Just as we took to the rocks, 
Mont Blanc, who must have been silently stealing 
above the horizon for some little time past, burst 
suddenly upon our sight, overtopping the Aiguilles 
Rouges, and presented a sight of almost unparalleled 
magnificence, looking far higher than he does from 
Chamouni, cold and marble in the dawning light, 
and shedding from his hoary top vast rays of ice 
down into the depths of the valley. I have seen no 
other view of Mont Blanc which has impressed me 
with such an idea of his height, his steepness, and 
his colossal size. We were then meditating the 
ascent, and I confess to a feeling of something like 
dismay when I gazed upon him from this spot. It 
seemed a boundless presumption to fancy that such 
creatures as we could ever scale that stupendous 
structure, or resist the searching intensity of the 
cold which we could see was reigning in that upper 



A SEA OF MIST. 



135 



world. But soon one kindling ray lighted on the 
lonely peak, and a brightness as of hope stole over 
his stern and massive brow. I have often recalled 
the sight in memory since, and thought how beau- 
tiful a parallel seems sometimes to connect the phe- 
nomena of the material and the facts of the mental 
world; as I have noticed and felt how the heart 
which pierces deepest into the cold atmosphere of 
sorrow is often the first to catch the sunbeams of 
fresh and living hope. 

Beyond the range of Mont Blanc rose solitary 
peaks of the Alps of Dauphine, the highest points 
alone overtopping the banks of clouds which nestled 
at their bases ; and far, far away in the south-west 
sprung up to a startling height some great glacier- 
clad summits which we could not identify. The 
guides would have it that they belonged to the 
Pyrenees, but I doubt very much the possibility of 
their being seen from so great a distance. On our 
right, as we wound up the greater part of the ascent, 
was a surging sea of troubled mist, torn into rags 
by the keen north wind, and tinged with a delicate 
amber light. The grassy ranges of the Col de 
Balme rose from the ocean of clouds, and above these 
towered a huge rampart of Aiguilles, forming one 
long frowning line of mingled precipice and glacier 



136 



THE PROSPECT. 



up to the Monts Maudits and Mont Blanc himself. 
Further to the east came the Velan, with his massive 
system of glaciers ; and further still, three isolated 
peaks alone emerged from the clouds, the Weiss- 
horn, the Matterhorn, and Monte Rosa. Turning- 
yet further to the left, and right in front of us when 
we addressed ourselves straight to the ascent, came 
the mass of the Buet himself; and sweeping the 
eye northward, clear of his great shoulder, we gazed 
upon the rich pastures of the lower and less snowy 
Alps between us and the Lake of Geneva, — a pleasing 
contrast to the sublime desolation of the Aiguilles 
Rouges, the Mont Blanc, and the Buet. One or two 
long lines of solemn mist, that lay like marble lakes 
between the heights towards the Lake of Geneva, 
marked the course of the valley of the Dranse and 
its tributary the Val d'Abondance. In the dim 
distance to the north, the Jura closed the view. 

The snow lay deep upon the rocks and upon the 
ice. The night's frost had formed a hard crust which 
broke beneath the foot, and, after affording a mo- 
mentary support, let us plunge suddenly in about 
six or eight inches at every step. The leading 
guide found it hard work. I know I was very 
nearly knocked up with only a quarter of an 
hour's experience of the task of making the steps, 



THE SUMMIT. 



137 



when we reached the summit; Cachat having dropped 
back exhausted, and I being anxious to see what it 
was like. The cold was intense. A keen and 
searching* blast from the north froze the snow on 
our boots — which, unluckily, were not dry after the 
last night's wetting, — and I, for one, was more near 
getting my feet frozen than was at all agreeable. It 
was necessary to keep working the toes about at 
every step, in order to sustain the circulation at all. 
At the top of the rocky spurs we stopped for a 
moment under the best shelter we could find, and 
had a draught of brandy all round. I dare say 
I drank a wine-glassful neat — a most nauseous ad- 
ministration, to my taste, but quite necessary. 

We then took once more to the snow, and mount- 
ing for some time by a gentle and uniform slope, 
found ourselves at length with no more worlds to 
conquer, on the brink of a curtain of glacier, which 
fell away suddenly from beneath our feet. I ad- 
vanced as near to the edge as I dared, till my stick 
went through an overhanging cornice of snow, and 
beneath me I saw a slope, not unlike that at the top 
of the Wetterhorn, but ending, some two hundred 
feet below, in a sort of gully between two towers of 
black crag. Beyond them I could see nothing but 
a seething cauldron of mist. The view from the 



138 



MONT BLANC. 



summit was little varied from what it had been for 
some time past, except that in place of the snows of 
the Buet, we had before us a fresh sea of whirling 
clouds, which was continually presenting us with 
some new and fantastic effect, as it was rent and 
tattered by the nipping wind, and its fragments 
dashed with one bright rainbow hue after another 
as they caught and reflected, or refracted, at ever- 
varying angles, the almost level sunlight. It was 
but half-past five, so that we had made good speed, 
and had arrived in ample time to see the early morn- 
ing view in all its clearness and perfection had the 
weather favoured us. Still, these effects of mist 
have beauties of their own, and beauties well worth 
the labour of the climb, and whenever we turned 
towards Mont Blanc we could exchange the mys- 
terious phantoms of the shifting clouds for the 
solemn and stern realities of the changeless moun- 
tains and the eternal snows. If you really wish to 
appreciate the grandeur of Mont Blanc, and to 
bring home to your mind the scale on which his 
fabric is reared, go to the summit of the Buet. It 
is, to my mind, a far more imposing view than even 
the wonderful scene enjoyed from the Breven or the 
Flegere. 

The restoring effect of the glacier air is wonder- 



GREAT COLD, 



139 



ful. We had come very rapidly from the Chalet 
Berarcl. It is generally accounted a four hours' 
walk to the summit ; we had pursued our favourite 
plan of going slowly, but steadily forward, without 
stopping to loiter or to rest, and it had taken us but 
little more than two hours and a half ; yet, despite 
my exhaustion of the night before, I had not drawn 
a long breath, iS A present," I exclaimed joyfully 
to Balmat, "je n'ai plus de peur pour les grandes 
courses," for my mountain vigour seemed to have 
been suddenly restored, and I never lost it again 
during the rest of my autumn's campaign. But it 
was far too cold to linger where we were. We 
could not stand still a minute, but were obliged to 
keep running backwards and forwards to ward off 
frost-bite ; so after staying about ten minutes at the 
summit — long enough to fix all that we did see in- 
delibly in our memories — we turned to descend, 
and soon regained the rocks where we had quaffed 
our early dose of brandy. Here we parted from 
our hearty, good-tempered friends of the night be- 
fore; they striking off to the south-west, and re- 
tracing the steps already made by our ascending 
feet, we turning to the north-west, and addressing 
ourselves to the descent upon Sixt. We worked 
our way down a series of wild limestone crags, and 



uo 



THE COL DE L'ECHAUD. 



although the new snow was very deep, and lay 
nearly fifteen hundred feet lower on the mountain 
side than it did the next time I visited the scene, 
there were many places in which, at the bases and 
in the crannies of the rock, the surface was un- 
covered. Even at this great height there was some 
vegetation, and one or two Alpine plants resolutely 
braved the snows and cold of this elevated region, 
and thrust their heads through the white mantle 
into the keener air outside. 

By and by we descended upon the top of a 
Col — the Col de l'Echaud — by which the traveller 
may avoid the summit of the Buet, and working 
across the shoulder which is turned towards the 
Breven, may cross from the Yal Orsine to Sixt 
without having to climb much higher than the Col 
de Balme. On neither occasion when I was here 
had I a barometer or boiling- water apparatus with 
me, but speaking from memory and impression only, 
I should estimate the height of the Col de l'Echaud 
at not more than from 8500 to 9000 feet, We now 
bade farewell to Mont Blanc, which was hidden im- 
mediately that we began to descend the valley lead- 
ing down to Sixt, of which the Col de l'Echaud is 
the head. The rocky and precipitous structure of 
the Buet gives way at once to slopes of rough turf, 



REMARKABLE FORMATION. 



141 



now covered with a light mantle of snow. Here 
and there great beds of dark blue gentians showed 
through the covering, looking bluer and brighter 
than ever from the contrast, each with a frozen rain- 
drop in its centre ; and starting a host of marmots, 
some from close beneath our feet, we came at length 
upon a green knoll where the slope was less rapid,, 
and where the herbage soon gave way to a luxuriant 
growth of alder, bilberry, and many a smaller kind 
of bush. 

Here we had leisure to look round, and were 
struck with astonishment at the scene we beheld. 
"We were in a great amphitheatre of limestone 
crags. On every side was nothing but calcareous 
rock, exhibiting all the wildest combinations which 
the characteristic forms of limestone crag can pro- 
duce. Towards one common point the radii of for- 
mation seemed to converge, and mass after mass of 
rock on every side shot forth from the circumference 
towards the centre, rising up like an advancing 
wave, separated from the neighbouring wave by a 
tremendous and dark ravine, and ending in a sheer 
precipice of many a hundred feet. It was the 
Ghemmi formation as seen from below Leukerbad — 
wave after wave of limestone rock, but in slices of 
waves only. Between each slice and its neighbour 



142 



REMARKABLE FORMATION. 



was a black chasm, in the very depths of which, 
often enough, a silver stream of water fell in white 
shreds, and was collected in some hollow, whence 
it took a second leap, and afterwards perhaps a third 
and a fourth, until it reached the torrent below, 
where scores of these delicate threads are twisted 
together into one. Lower down, the different ter- 
races of these wavy radii of crag are connected by 
steep slopes of bosky turf, trodden by no foot save 
that of the chamois or the marmot. Some of the 
ravines are, of course, not perpendicular, but all are 
very steep, and all dark as ink ; the formation being 
a slaty schist, very friable, and often degenerating 
almost into a black mud. Wherever a ledge occurs 
there is the richest Alpine pasturage, and the top of 
every crested crag is an oasis of the most luxuriant 
Yerdure. 

We stood on one of the most prolonged of the 
radii, and one of a system nearly equidistant from 
each extremity of the amphitheatre, and differ- 
ing from the rest in one particular ; for the green 
patches which surmount each terrace of rock, in- 
stead of rising up in the form of a wave, like those 
on either hand, slope sharply and steeply down- 
wards, presenting at the top a narrow edge clothed 
with shrubs, and a rank growth of tangled grass 



THE DESCENT. 



143 



and of the largest Alpine plants. We had to pass 
two or three times from one of these edges to an- 
other, across the steep and slippery ravines which 
separated them, before we could reach the hollow 
that collected the mass of the water-courses from 
above, and would alone conduct us safe into the 
valley below. The grass, and herbs, and shrubs 
were laden with rain and heavy dew. They were at 
times far above our knees, and never less than a foot 
in height, and we got exceedingly wet. I had lost 
all the nails from one side of my boots — that on 
which the principal stress lay in clambering down 
these ravines, and I had several slips, one or two 
of which were awkward enough, and was soon 
quite wet through. When once one began to slip, 
it was most difficult to stop. However, we met 
with no serious accident, and by half-past eight 
We were all sitting down to breakfast by the 
side of the clearest and sweetest of mountain tor- 
rents, and nearly at the base of all these curious 
formations. 

We had been told that this neighbourhood was 
still a favourite haunt of the chamois, and that we 
were not unlikely to see some of them, as they 
descend while the dew is still upon the ground to 
feed upon the grass and shrubs which are so abun- 



144 



CHAMOIS. 



dant here. As we came over the brow of one of the 
grassy ridges I have described, we saw three cha- 
mois browsing at a great distance: presently a 
fourth appeared, and began to descend just towards 
the spot where we were. It was a pretty sight to 
see him skipping and trotting so gracefully and 
lightly down places which looked like absolute 
precipices, and stopping every few moments to sniff 
the breeze and look suspiciously round him to see 
that all was rio-ht. I could not forbear savins; to 
Balmat that I thought I could hardly make up my 
mind to pull a trigger against so beautiful a beast. 
Balmat, who has killed many a chamois in his day, 
smiled an old hunter's smile, and quietly remarked, 
that unless the chamois were safer from my aim 
than in my compunctions, he should be sorry to 
change places with him if I had a rifle in my hand. 
Fortunately we were in the shade, and we stood 
perfectly still; Balmat enjoining us not to stir hand 
or foot, nor to speak above a whisper, though the 
chamois was still nearly half a mile away. The 
pretty creature trotted gently on till within less 
than 200 yards of us, when all at once he caught 
sight of us, and instantly beat a retreat, scrambling 
up the rocks and leaping up the precipices with 
incredible agility, till he was far beyond the reach 



FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF THE VALLEY OF SIXT. 145 

of mischief. His companions also took the alarm, 
and we saw no more of them. 

At our halting place we enjoyed the luxury of a 
thorough wash, and dried our garments on the 
warm slabs of rock ; and after a pleasant half-hour's 
chat, we resumed our journey gaily. A very few 
minutes' walk brought us to a narrow belt of mag- 
nificent fir trees, and immediately afterwards we 
emerged on to the Plateau des Fonds, with which I 
was destined soon to become so much better ac- 
quainted. The scene that there met our eyes I 
have already attempted to describe ; but I cannot 
forbear extracting a few lines from a letter written 
very shortly afterwards to my wife, as they show 
the impression created by my first passage through 
the Vallee des Fonds, at a time when I had had 
no previous idea that it possessed any remarkable 
beauty. It is an impression which was fully shared 
by my friend "W"., who was with me, which I have 
seen no reason since to change, and which my wife's 
letters, written to friends at home, when she came 
to make acquaintance with it in the following year, 
prove to have been produced on her mind no less 
than on my own. " I have only time now," I 
wrote, " to say that I have a great deal to say of 
Sixt and its environs, and that never in the whole 



146 



FKOM SIXT TO CHAMOUNI. 



course of my wanderings have I seen anything so 
exquisitely and perfectly beautiful. There is not 
the Mont Blanc of course ; but, excepting for that, 
Chamouni is not fit to be named in the same day 
with it, and I am glad to say it is a place admirably 
adapted for staying at, and affords occupation for 
weeks. I hope our next Swiss tour may begin 
with a long month there, and that it may be taken 
at no great distance of time. Why do not people 
go to Sixt? I have never seen a place with so 
many and so great attractions." 

My friend W. and I were so much pleased with 
the valley that we sent a messenger over to B., 
whom we had left behind at Chamouni, to say that 
we should like to stay at Sixt longer than we had 
intended, and to beg him to come over if possible 
and join us. He did so, two days later, and was 
no less delighted with the scenery than we were. 

The following year I crossed from Sixt to Cha- 
mouni by way of the Buet. The aspect of the 
same scenery is so different in ascending and de- 
scending, that I think it may not be out of place 
briefly to describe the journey, as it may enable the 
reader the better to judge which way he would 
prefer to make the excursion. The brief account I 
subjoin is little more than a copy of a letter written 



LES FONDS BY NIGHT. 



147 



about ten days afterwards, so that its accuracy may 
be depended upon. 

We started from Sixt, where we had been de- 
tained several days by such rain as falls only among 
the Alps, on the morning of the 23rd of August, 
185 9, about an hour after midnight. The party 
consisted of my friend H., my companion of 1852, 
Balmat, and myself. Though the moon was up she 
was in her fourth quarter, and her light was so 
smothered in dark clouds that she did but little for 
us, and soon after three we passed the Plateau des 
Fonds in the dimness of the faintest twilight. There 
is always something exciting and mysterious in 
these midnight expeditions, and the pathway to Les 
Fonds seemed to gain in solemnity what it lost in 
distinctness and detail. The grand precipices of 
the Buet looked loftier and more imposing than 
ever, as we turned aside from the path to exercise 
once more the pleasant sense of ownership. I 
pointed out to H., who had not been there before, 
as well as the darkness of that early hour would 
permit, the spot on which the chalet was to rise ; 
and we indulged in pleasant day-dreams of antici- 
pation, the pleasantest of which, alas! will never 
find an answering reality. 

We then addressed ourselves to the steep ascent 



148 



SUNRISE. 



that winds up the curious accumulation of wild 
ravines into which the lower part of the Buet is 
broken. It was a glorious sight to watch the grey 
dawn stealing over the face of nature, grizzling 
first the tops of the limestone crags, then slowly 
creeping downwards till the great amphitheatre 
showed itself no longer as a round unbroken forma- 
tion, but a quaint assemblage of narrow precipitous 
cliffs, separated from one another by deep and 
black ravines, each streaked by its own little silvery 
torrent, and each surmounted by a wedge-like slope 
of verdure, the favourite browsing place of the 
chamois. Then, at length, the cold white which 
precedes the sunrise settled upon everything, and 
the whole panorama became distinct enough. It 
was between four and five o'clock when we saw 
the first pale beams of sunlight on the cliffs still 
far above us. The ascent lay now through rank 
vegetation, where the camomile, the parnassia, and 
other flowers which love dank spots, were growing 
freely and flowering with unusual vigour: next, 
when we had overtopped the heads of all the lime- 
stone ravines, over a wide expanse of rich Alpine 
pasture, where the marmot was already at his 
morning meal, and where the brightest gentians 
bloomed, each at this early hour gemmed with a 



VIEW FROM THE COL DE L'eCHAUD. 149 

single globule of pearly dew. The moment the 
ridge was gained, the range of Mont Blanc burst 
upon the view — the valley of Chamouni, shut out 
by the rugged masses of the Aiguilles Rouges and 
the Breven, in front of which lay the deep valley 
of the Dioza, from whose green pastures there 
came up the pleasant tinkle of some two hundred 
cattle bells, softened by the great distance into a 
gentle and musical sound. When we got there 
between seven and eight o'clock, there was not one 
cloud to chequer the summer sky, so that we saw 
the noble view of Mont Blanc to great advantage. 

I, however, was suffering from an attack of sick- 
ness and indigestion of the most violent and distress- 
ing kind. I was quite cold, in great pain, my head 
throbbed as if a mountain rested upon it, my knees 
sank beneath me, and I was very nearly as white, 
they said, as the snow. I felt so ill that I did not 
like to separate from my companions, else I should 
have pushed across the lower part of the Buet, 
crossed another shoulder (the opposite boundary of 
the Yal Dioza), and descended at once upon the 
Pierre Berard and the Tete Noire ; but I was 
afraid to leave the others, for I thought I might 
sink exhausted on the way, or be attacked by 
giddiness in some bad place, and so be put to great 

L 3 



150 DESOLATE ASPECT OF THE BUET. 

straits. Besides, I fully expected that after the 
heavy rain of the previous days there would be 
mists as soon as the sun became powerful, and I 
was in no condition to run the risk of losing my 
way by myself in a fog. As to going back, that 
was out of the question, for my wife was by this 
time already on her way to Chamouni by the road, 
and I knew she would be alarmed if I did not make 
my appearance at Chamouni that night. I was 
anxious, indeed, to get there the first, that all things 
might be comfortable for her and her companions 
after their long day's ride. I was equally resolved 
that H., whose opportunities of reaching the Alps 
are not so frequent as my own, should get to the 
summit ; so I concealed as well as I could the ex- 
tent of my misery, and after a short rest turned to 
the left and set resolutely to work to climb the 
crags of the Buet. The snow had been falling for 
three days past, and was lower and deeper than 
usual, and we had yet three good hours' work 
before we could hope to reach the top, so I think I 
may fairly say I gave some proof of resolution. I 
know no mountain which gives a greater impression 
of vastness than the Buet. From the Col de 
l'Echaud to the summit, it is almost entirely bare 
of any vegetation except lichens and mosses, and 



ENCOURAGEMENT. 



151 



such few plants as cling to the little ledges in the 
rocks. Though these are very numerous for so 
dreary a spot, they make no show, and to the eye 
the prospect seems that of an endless waste of black 
shaly rock, covered with its own debris. You are 
almost always toiling up a wide slope of this ma- 
terial, hollowed out a little, and enclosed between 
two dark ridges — not of any great height above the 
general mass on which you are walking, but just 
high enough to separate one slope from another and 
shut out from the view the next similar formation. 
The several portions of an umbrella between the 
different pairs of whalebone or iron rods give no 
bad illustration of my meaning. You never see 
very far above you, and whenever you reach the 
top of one of these couloirs, you are sure to find 
another above you, quite as steep as the last, and 
with the snow lying rather more deeply upon it. 

I forget how many of these cheering prospects 
rose one after another to the view ; whenever I asked 
where the summit might be, Balmat always shook 
his head and gave answer, (e Two hours," " An hour 
and a half," " Encore une forte heure," or some 
such encouraging assurance. The view of Mont 
Blanc, however, and of the connected ranges, was 
very magnificent, and had I been in tolerable con- 



152 



EXHAUSTION. 



dition would have well repaid me for all the toil. 
But I never yet suffered as I did this day. I was 
faint but could not eat, thirsty but could not drink, 
for I was on the verge of sickness all the while. I 
was in pain, and tormented with headache which 
never intermitted for a moment; and from one 
o'clock in the morning till eight in the evening, all 
I ate or drank was three mouthfuls of meat, — 
the sour bread I could not touch, — a tea-spoonful 
of brandy, a wine-glassful of champagne, and a tum- 
bler of lemonade. However, my companions were 
very careful of me, and as they could not prevail 
on me to let them give up the great object of the 
day's expedition, they waited patiently whenever I 
was exhausted, while I lay on my back in the snow, 
sometimes for a quarter of an hour at a time. In 
this fashion we plodded on till we came to the foot 
of a very steep curtain of snow hanging from the 
ridge which ends in the actual summit. This is 
generally turned by a long detour, but to me a 
detour of any kind seemed quite intolerable, and I 
proposed, as the snow was good, to assail the cur- 
tain itself. This proved to be quite practicable, 
and we soon found ourselves on the great cake of 
glacier which surmounts the precipices of the Buet. 
It is of great extent, and stretches on the north- 



VIEW FROM THE SUMMIT. 



153 



west as far as the precipices overhanging the Pla- 
teau des Ponds ; and, towards the north-east, to 
those which guard the upper valley of the Bas 
Giffre, and at length hem in the Fer a Cheval. 

About a quarter of an hour's walk now brought 
us to the summit, which looked just like the last 
outwork of creation ; for the mists had risen, as I 
had expected they would, and lay all about us, and 
one step further would have taken us neatly over a 
precipice of ice, ending, to all appearance, in nothing 
more substantial than cloud. The wind was blowing 
strongly from the side of the Val Dioza, and planed 
off the tops of the clouds as level as if they had been 
cut by machinery ; so that it was not till we were 
within a few feet of the top that we could tell how 
completely the distant view would be obliterated. 
For all that, however, it was a very striking scene. 
Mont Blanc rose in wonderful majesty above the 
long banks of white cloud, and beneath them the 
Yal Dioza, the Bre'ven, and the Aiguilles Rouges 
were seen as distinct and bright as ever ; and even 
at this great height the tinkling of the cattle bells 
was wafted gently up to us on the breeze. Though 
it was now past eleven, and the sun high and hot, 
the shrewdness of the wind made it bitterly cold ; 
but; wind or no wind, cold or no cold, I could get 



154 



VIEW FROM THE SUMMIT. 



no further, and was obliged to lie on my back in the 
snow for at least a quarter of an hour before I could 
manage to stir another step. It was not far from 
mid-day when we began to descend ; and, leaving 
our former track to the right, made towards the 
south or south-west. The glorious view of Mont 
Blanc was now just in front of us; the Aiguilles 
Rouges form at all times a noble range, abounding 
in sharp pinnacles and streaked by many lines of 
glacier, but now, from the quantity of fresh snow, 
they looked much higher and grander than they 
really are, and their glaciers appeared double the 
true size ; even the Aiguille Yerte, which towered 
above them, wore from the same cause an aspect of 
unusual grandeur. 

Not far from the summit we found some warm 
and sheltered rocks, where I lay down again and 
dozed peacefully for half an hour, with the faint 
cadence of the cow-bells striking gently on the ear, 
and seeming to say that we were still within reach 
of human sympathy and help. Before I went to 
sleep, I looked through the telescope at the Col 
d'Anterne. We had been a large and most happy 
party at Sixt ; and while we took the long round by 
the Buet, and my wife and another lady the least 
fatiguing journey by the valleys, a third detachment 



DEEP SNOW. 



155 



was to cross the Col d'Anterne, and reach Chamouni 
by way either of Servoz or the Breven ; and, with 
the quantity of fresh fallen snow, we felt a little 
anxious to know how they fared. No track, how- 
ever, sullied the stainless white ; but, when I woke 
and asked Balmat to look again, he said there was 
" une trace forte," so that we knew their cavalcade 
must have passed over the Col during our halt. We 
learned in the evening that they had had, as we 
feared, rather a fatiguing passage, the snow having 
lain nearly a foot deep on the higher parts of the 
pass. 

We were now on the southern face of the Buet, 
and the weather had evidently been severer here 
than on the side of Sixt, for the snow became very 
deep. It was thoroughly softened by the noonday 
sun, and we constantly sank in it nearly knee-deep, 
so that we had a most laborious descent ; but at 
length we came to bare and broken faces of rock, 
many of which were much rounded and polished by 
the action of extinct glaciers. We had to descend 
in the beds of water-courses choked by rough, an- 
gular debris, and now half filled with melting snow. 
Once we had to re-ascend for about fifty feet, and 
for the first time for many years I was obliged to 
ask Balmat to give me his hand. Without it I do 



156 



A DISAPPOINTMENT. 



not think I could possibly have got up. At length, 
however, even the half-melted, soppy snow came to 
an end, and the smooth faces of the rockers mou- 
tonnes began to be interspersed with welcome ver- 
dure. The rough turf seemed like a luxurious 
carpet to the feet, and presently a few bilberries 
appeared, and offered a welcome refreshment to the 
parched mouth and tongue. A long way below, but 
apparently just beneath our feet (so steep is the 
mountain), we saw a huge block of stone, part of 
the debris of the Buet. Close to this was a little 
dot of a man, and then we recognised the colour of 
woodwork against the stone, and knew that the 
Chalet Berard was within sight and reach. I sent 
Balmat on ahead to order me a cup of tea, and H. 
and I wound slowly down the steep descent ; but, on 
reaching the chalet about half-past two, we found I 
had reckoned without my host ; tea was not among 
the delicacies thought necessary at the Chalet Be- 
rard, and I was fain to put up with a little lemonade, 
the first thing that I had tasted since eight o'clock. 

We did not loiter here, but soon went pounding 
on, my headache growing more violent at every 
step. The passage across the little plain was mono- 
tonous enough, but I think the descent must be far 
more beautiful than the ascent, for you have a richer 



THE CASCADE BERARD. 



157 



and pleasanter prospect before you ; and, despite my 
illness, I positively enjoyed it. The larch grows 
pretty freely as soon as you quit the plain, and 
very pleasantly diversifies the colouring. By and 
by the Cascade Berard is approached, a great valley 
leading up to some inferior member of the Buet 
system opens on the left, and the scene becomes 
of rare beauty. The narrow gorge, where the bed 
of the torrent is half choked with enormous blocks 
of stone, tapestried with beautiful moss, and crowned 
by fir trees springing from the cracks and interstices, 
appeared to me more exquisite than ever. It reaches 
the climax of its wildness as you come close to the 
cascade, and the rich Val Or sine is suddenly un- 
masked. Fagged as I was, I could not forbear going 
some distance out of my way to get a good view of 
the grand waterfall. 

We did not stay long at the cascade, but pressed 
on towards the Tete Noire, which we struck about 
a mile below its highest part, and it was with no small 
difficulty that I dragged my limbs up that last mile 
of ascent. However, every task has its end, and 
the top was reached at last ; and from there we had 
nothing to do but to stroll down-hill to Argentines. 
We sent Balmat forward to try and get us a return 
carriage to Chamouni; and, when we arrived, we 



158 



A CLOSE BAKGAIN. 



found one waiting, which he had engaged for the 
odd sum of three francs and ten centimes ! — a piece 
of bargaining which raised our already exalted 
opinion of Balmat's capacities. If it had been three 
francs and a half, or three and a quarter, we should 
not have thought quite so much of the exploit ; but 
the odd tenth implied a fineness of perception on the 
parts both of retainer and retained, which could not 
fail to extort admiration. We reached Argentieres 
soon after five, and were at Chamouni by half-past 
six ; and, after selecting rooms and making such a 
toilette as I could in the absence of our knapsacks, 
I strolled down the road for about a mile and a half, 
when I had the pleasure of meeting my wife and 
her companion all safe and sound, and not over tired 
with the day's work. Half an hour afterwards the 
Breven party arrived, highly delighted with the 
beauties of the route by which they had come ; and 
soon after eight o'clock we were all enjoying a 
sociable cup of tea, and comparing the different 
incidents of our several journeys. 

Amongst our party was a certain Dr. Crookenden, 
an English physician, who had taken up his residence 
years ago at Cannes, and to whom my wife and I 
had been greatly indebted in 1854. She had been 
taken seriously ill at St. Nicholas, and I had ex- 



A SIMPLE CURE. 



159 



hausted my simple skill without being able to afford 
her the slightest relief. I sent up to Zermatt in 
the forlorn hope that some English medical man 
might be among the visitors there, and late in the 
evening my message was announced to Dr. Crook- 
enden on his return from a long day on the glaciers 
of Monte Rosa. With the greatest kindness and 
promptitude he came down at once, through the 
darkness, to St. Nicholas, and his excellent treat- 
ment soon subdued an illness which might have led 
to very grave results, and enabled us, after a day 
or two's rest, to proceed upon our journey. We had 
not met again till this year, 1858, when he chanced 
to hear in the Oberland that we were on our way 
to Sixt, and having nothing particular to determine 
the direction of his own journey, he very kindly 
turned his steps in our direction, and came to Sixt 
to renew an acquaintance of which both parties had 
retained a very agreeable impression. He took me 
in hand this evening, after my harassing day on the 
Buet, and applied a simple treatment, which I have 
often since seen tried, and always with success, 
(though I have never needed it myself) in cases of 
great internal irritation. He wrung flannels out in 
very hot water, till they were dry to the touch, and 
then applied them over the part affected, covering 



160 



A SIMPLE CURE. 



them with a thick wrapping of plaids or whatever 
was at hand, in order to keep in the heat as long as 
possible. In about an hour, a hard, irregular, fever- 
ish pulse, at ninety or ninety-five, was brought down 
to a tranquil, gentle flow of sixty-five or seventy, and 
a delightful drowsiness induced, and I awoke next 
morning without a trace of the serious indisposition 
of the previous day. 

The passage from Sixt to Chamouni, by the Buet, 
is, on the whole, I think, more interesting than that 
from Chamouni to Sixt. Either way, the expedi- 
tion constitutes a long day's work. It occupied us 
upwards of seventeen hours. Owing to my illness, 
we must have lost from an hour and a half to two 
hours, but not more, and even my companion, a very 
strong man, felt that he had had a heavy day's work. 
It is an expedition quite free from difficulty or 
danger, in fine weather, and to a practised moun- 
taineer. I should not hesitate for a moment to take 
it by myself, but it requires a little knowledge of 
the district. The Buet is a very wild and desolate 
mountain, abounding in steep slopes and curtains of 
ice, and precipitous faces of rock, and it is singularly 
monotonous in its appearance. One shoulder of it is 
very like another, and though, of course, so long as 
Mont Blanc, and the Aiguille Yerte, and the Col 



KEMARKS. 



161 



de Balme are visible, he must be a poor mountaineer 
indeed who would go very far wrong ; yet in a mist, 
where those distant landmarks failed, I know no 
mountain of the same height on which it .would be 
easier to lose one's way and get into difficulties. 



162 



CHAP. VI. 
" Doceas iter." — Virgil. 

THE APPKOACHES TO SIXT. 

CARRIAGE ROADS FROM BONNEVILLE, GENEVA AND CLUSES. — THE 
COL D'ANTERNE FROM SERVOZ TO SIXT. — PASSAGE ACROSS THE 
BREVEN TO CHAMOUNI. — FROM THE PLATEAU D'ANTERNE TO LES 
FONDS, BY THE CHEMIN DES GRASSES CHEVRES. — THE COL DE 
L'ECHAUD. — FROM THE VALLEY OF THE RHONE TO SAMOENS, BY 

THE COLS DE COUX AND DE GOLEZE. — BEAUTY OF CHAMPERY. 

THE COL DE SAGEROUX. — PASSAGES TO ST. MAURICE AND MARTIGNY. 

The town of Samoens lies very nearly half-way, as 
the crow flies, between Bonneville on the west and 
Martigny on the east. If a circle be swept round 
Samoens as a centre, with a radius of about fifteen 
English miles, it will pass about a mile, or a mile 
and a half, to the west of Martigny, will run through 
St. Maurice, Month ey, and Bonneville, and reaching 
some little distance beyond Chamouni, will find the 
Grands Mulets upon, or very near to, its circumfer- 
ence. In every direction except that of Bonneville, 
however, these twelve or fifteen miles of lineal dis- 
tance represent a good day's work, and involve a 



CARRIAGE ROUTES. 



163 



great deal of climbing and descending. From Bonne- 
ville the distance by the road is about twenty or 
two-and-twenty miles, and as it includes the long 
ascent and descent between Chatillon and the valleys 
of the Arve and the Giffre respectively, the drive 
generally occupies four or five hours at the least. 
From Geneva there are two carriage roads, the one 
by way of Bonneville, the other by way of St. 
Jeoire, and by the eastern side of the Mole. From 
Chamouni the only carriage route is by way of 
St. Martin, Cluses, and Chatillon, a drive of be- 
tween forty and fifty miles. All the other ap- 
proaches to the Yalley of Sixt are by mountain 
paths, some easily practicable for mules, others of 
a kind to tax the powers of even a vigorous pedes- 
trian. 

Leaving the carriage routes as sufficiently indi- 
cated by the foregoing brief sketch, I will come to 
the mountain passes which lead to Samoens or Sixt. 
Of these, the best known perhaps is the Col d'An- 
terne. There is a great wild ridge, called La 
Chaine des Fys, of which the easternmost extremity 
is the Pointe de Salles, so grand an object from the 
Vallee des Fonds, and the westernmost the Aiguille 
de Varens, above St. Martin. The actual Col d'An- 
terne is a point not exactly in this chain, but 



164 



THE COL D'ANTEKNE. 



in a subsidiary ridge connecting the Chaine des Fys 
and the Buet ; it is situated just to the east of their 
point of junction, and is commanded by a series of 
precipices, belonging to the Chaine des Fys, hardly 
second in magnificence to the Pointe de Salles. 
The Col d'Anterne is one of the blackest, barrenest, 
and most desolate spots in the world, though even 
here the mountain arnica, the Ranunculus glacialis, 
and a few other hardy plants, show what ungrateful 
soil nature will do her best to brighten and beautify. 
For a considerable distance on either side of the 
summit of the pass, wildness and rugged grandeur 
are the characteristics of the scene. Nestled be- 
neath the precipices of Les Fys, a few hundred feet 
below the Col, on the Sixt side, is the Lac d'An- 
terne, a small lake, perhaps three-quarters of a mile 
across, of the darkest and deepest green, suggesting 
the ideas of fathomless depth and of intense cold. Bat 
the approaches to the valleys below are, on either 
side, most rich and lovely. The Lac d'Anterne 
gives birth to a stream which flings itself madly 
down the vast rampart forming the lower boundary 
of the lake, and soon reaches an extensive plain, 
shut in between the Chaine d'Anterne on the right 
and the Pointe de Salles on the left as the tra- 
veller descends from the Col. This wild recess 



THE COL D'ANTERNE. 



165 



is one of the best pasturages of the district; and 
though the Chalets d'Anterne are so dirty that when 
we had bought our milk there we were very glad to 
carry it to a most respectful distance before drinking 
it, yet nowhere in the Alps is purer or sweeter milk 
to be met with. The profusion of wild flowers which 
gem the plain is no less marvellous than the vigour 
of their growth and the size they attain. Nor is 
the exit from the plateau the least attraction of the 
pass, for the pathway is carried through a perfect 
maze of huge boulders and debris, the hiding-place 
of the stream before it begins the series of bold leaps 
by which it gains the Giffre below, and then along 
the sloping bank of turf-clad earth which forms the 
buttress and support of the highest crags of the 
Pointe de Salles, and which is itself borne upon the 
vast system of precipices I have described as pre- 
senting, with their contorted strata, so remarkable 
an aspect towards the Vallee des Fonds. Having 
thus begun to cross the loftiest tier of the Pointe de 
Salles, the path continues in the same spirit to hug 
the opposite side of the range, and is carried back 
far into the valley that opens upon Salvagny and 
Sixt. It passes within earshot of the gentle mur- 
murs of the Pleureuse, and descends towards Sixt, 
through a valley which the traveller, whatever his 

M 3 



166 



FROM SIXT TO CHAMOUKT. 



experience, will probably pronounce one of more 
than usual richness and luxuriance. The descent in 
the opposite direction leads to Servoz in a much 
more direct line ; but on this side, also, the lower 
portion of the pass is of rare beauty. The expe- 
dition from Sixt to Servoz is an aifair of about nine 
hours. 

I have already mentioned how this route may be 
diversified, by descending from the Col d'Anterne 
to the Dioza, and then crossing the Breven range, 
and descending by Planpraz upon Chamouni. I 
shall also have occasion to mention, in a subsequent 
chapter, how the Plateau d'Anterne may be quitted 
at either flank, and how the traveller may, if so 
inclined, reach the Eagle's JSTest by the Chemin des 
Grasses Chevres, and thence descend the Yallee 
des Ponds to Sixt. The combination of this way 
of climbing to the Plateau d'Anterne, and of the 
passage of the Breven, affords the finest route that 
I know to or from Sixt. The Col de l'Echaud, 
leading from Les Fonds across the shoulder of the 
Buet to ' the Cascade Berard, and so by the Val 
Orsine and Argentieres to Chamouni, and the 
longer and much more laborious passage over the 
actual summit of the Buet, have been already de- 
scribed. 



FROM MONTHEY TO SAMOENS. 167 

One more approach to Sixt from the west remains 
to be mentioned, and that is from Maglan, a few 
miles above Cluses on the Chamouni road, by way 
of the Lac de Gers. This cannot' occupy above 
six or seven hours, and is practicable for mules on 
the Sixt side. Whether it be so on the side of 
Maglan I do not know, and should consider much 
more doubtful. 

The most common way of passing from the valley 
of the Rhone to that of the Giffre, is from Monthey, 
just below St. Maurice, on the left bank of the 
Rhone, to Samoens, by the Col de Coux and the Col 
de Goleze. A beautiful lateral valley, called the 
Val dTlliez, opens at Monthey out of the valley of 
the Rhone, and runs beneath the northern base of 
the Dent du Midi, nearly in a straight line towards 
Samoens, for a distance of about eight miles as the 
crow flies. Opposite to Samoens a valley of less 
extent runs back from the Giffre towards Monthey. 
The upper end of the valley of the Dranse (a stream 
very different from its namesake of the Yal de 
Bagnes, falling into the Lake of Geneva close to 
Thonon) insinuates itself between these two, so that 
in passing from the Col de Coux to the Col de 
Goleze, you just skirt the head of the valley of the 
Dranse. Neither Col is very lofty. The height of 

M 4 



168 



INCORRECTNESS OF MAPS. 



the Col de Coux, ascertained from my boiling-water 
observations, by taking the mean of the results given 
by comparison with the simultaneous barometrical 
readings at Geneva and at the Great St. Bernard, is 
6374 English feet; that of the Col de Goleze is 
5543 : the difference between the results of com- 
parison with Geneva and with the St. Bernard being 
in the second case thirty-four feet, and in the first 
only two. 

I should observe that the height given by Leuthold 
on his map is 6067 French, or 6466 English feet, 
but I do not know what his authority may be ; and 
most of the common maps are so lamentably in- 
correct with reference to this district, not merely in 
details but in matters of essential importance, that 
unless one knows the sources of the information they 
contain, the presumption is almost against their being 
right. I have before me a little French handbook, 
published at Geneva in 1856, and entitled " Sou- 
venirs de Sixt," in the map attached to which the 
height of the Col de Coux is given as 6500 French, 
or 6927 English feet, and that of the Col de Goleze 
as 6280 French, or 6693 English feet. This would 
give a difference of elevation of only 234 feet instead 
of 831, as I make it. The most inexperienced eye 
would see at a glance, from the Col de Goleze, that 



MONTHEY. 



169 



my estimate of the difference between the two heights 
is far nearer to the truth. In Rudolf Gross's map, 
the height of the Col de Coux is given at 6250 
French feet; but, as the Col is confounded with 
another leading in a totally different direction, it is 
obvious that his authority on the subject is worth 
nothing. In my calculations I have taken the 
height of the barometer at Geneva, with which com- 
parison is made, to be 408 metres, or 1256 English 
feet; and the height of that at the St. Bernard to 
be 2478-34 metres, or 8131 English feet; these 
figures having been obligingly furnished to me by 
M. Plantamour, of the Observatory of Geneva. 

TTe started from Bex to cross by the Yal d'llliez 
to Samoens, on the afternoon of the 25th Sep- 
tember, 1858. We had been so wet on the passage 
of the Diablerets the day before, that it was not till 
four o'clock that our things were dry enough to enable 
us to get off. Though the valley opens just opposite 
to Bex, we had to drive up to St. Maurice to find a 
bridge across the Rhone, and then back again along 
the opposite side of the river to Monthey, where the 
good road comes to an end, and we had to exchange 
our comfortable carriage and pair for a rough moun- 
tain char. This is a wonderful country for rules and 
regulations, and at Monthey they have a rule that 



170 THE ii BLOCKS OF MONTHEY." 

no mule- or carriage-driver shall be bound to start 
within an hour of the time at which he is hired. 
The people at the inn tried very hard to persuade 
us to give up the idea of going further, and seemed 
very reluctant to furnish us with the means of doing 
so ; but our plans were settled, and we resolved to 
adhere to our original intention. We walked outside 
the village and sat down by the roadside, while my 
wife sketched the magnificent view of the valley and 
the mountains opposite. Whether owing to a mis- 
take, or perhaps to punish us for our contumacy, 
they kept us waiting very nearly two hours ; and the 
sun went down, tinging the Dent de Morcle and 
yesterday's fresh snow on the peaks of the Diablerets 
with glorious crimson hues. It was nearly seven 
when our clumsy conveyance overtook us, and we 
set forth on what they called a "four hours'" 
journey to Champery. The daylight was soon 
gone, and we saw but little of the grey granite 
"blocks of Monthey," so abundant here in the woods, 
and so interesting to the geologist, as helping him to 
mark out the limit of the icy stream which once 
flowed hither and deposited them, sharp as when they 
were severed from their parent peaks high upon the 
mountain-side. The daylight was soon gone; but, 
fortunately, the full September moon rose pre- 



CHAMPERY, 



171 



sently in all her harvest splendour from behind the 
Dent du Midi, and lighted up the valley we were 
ascending with a soft flood of silver radiance. 

At first the scenery seemed simply pretty, and we 
thought we did not lose much by the want of a more 
perfect light. After a time, however, we came to 
wilder bits, and were sorry we could not see them by 
the light of day. It was a cold ride, and oftentimes 
the pathway was so steep that it was all the mule 
could do to drag up the car with my wife and our 
scanty baggage in it. In due time, however, Cham- 
pery was reached, just as the clock of the village 
church was sounding the half-hour between nine and 
ten, and we were welcomed most hospitably at the 
excellent hotel, then just newly built, where we 
met with a cordial reception, that seemed the plea- 
santer by contrast with the very cold and reluctant 
service accorded to us at Bex the night before, 
when we arrived, about the same hour, in pitiable 
plight, after having been exposed since mid-day to 
such rain and wind as falls and blows only among 
the mountains. 

The next morning we woke to find the sun 
already up, and seeming to chicle us for being still 
abed ; and on turning out were gladdened by a 
scene of exquisite beauty. Before us fell away 



172 



CHAMPERY. 



verdant swelling slopes of fine turf dotted with 
trees and chalets, and bounded by a remarkable 
wall of rock, which sweeps round in somewhat of a 
semicircular form, as if to protect the luxuriant 
pastures beneath it. It is almost perpendicular, 
about 150 feet high, and marked with lines of 
stratification almost as regular as courses of ma- 
sonry. Above this are more green pastures, and 
then the steeper slopes of the Dent du Midi, partly 
clothed with dark pine woods, and surmounted by 
the tremendous precipices which are seen so dis- 
tinctly from Yevey and Lausanne. To the right, 
between the Dent du Midi and another fine mass of 
rock similar in character, is a deep and narrow 
valley, disclosing tier after tier of naked rock, rising 
one behind another, each streaked with an ever- 
dwindling silver thread of water, in an almost inter- 
minable vista, leading up at length to the noble snowy 
peaks called Les Tours de Sallieres, beneath which 
lies the pass of the Sageroux. The path by which we 
mounted to the Col de Coux was so beautiful that we 
almost involuntarily began somewhat to disparage, in 
comparison with it, the scenery of Les Fonds. The 
next day's experience showed us that our own valley 
had nothing to fear from the comparison, but we ever 
afterwards deliberately placed Champery second, and 



THE COL DE COUX. 



173 



second only, to Les Fonds, on the list of beautiful 
spots that we have visited together. It is astonishing 
how completely the loveliest spots often appear to 
escape the general attention. In Murray's 6s Hand- 
book " (1854), there is not even a passing allusion 
to the beauty of the Val d'llliez. Yet I can hardly 
conceive a pleasanter place to stay at than Cham- 
pery ; there is an excellent pension and hotel, and 
the charges are quite moderate. The only objection 
I could find to it for a place to stay the autumn in, 
is that it must be hot. 

The ascent of the Col de Coux is perfectly easy, 
and though we did not start from Champery till 
after eight, we were on the top before eleven 
o'clock. The bottom of the valley between the 
Col de Coux and the Col de Goleze is occupied 
by a large fir-wood, containing some of the finest 
trees we have met with on our travels. I measured 
one of the boles about five feet from the ground, 
and found it to be eighteen feet in circumference. 
At the foot of one of the great firs we came upon 
an enormous ants' nest, a cone four feet high. 
After passing through this wood we defiled for a 
short distance beneath a lofty precipice of limestone 
crags, marked by curiously-twisted lines of stratifi- 
cation, both ends of a tolerably regular and hori- 



174 



THE COL DE GOLEZE. 



zontal ellipse being presented by different parts of 
the formation. Two hours after leaving the Col de 
Coux we reached the summit of the second Col, 
about 800 feet lower, according to my measure- 
ments, than the Col at the head of the Val d'llliez. 

Some chalets are grouped close to the Col de 
Goleze, and we were able to buy some excellent 
milk, some indifferent wine, and some coarse bread 
and cheese, upon which we made a very tolerable 
lunch. We then descended to Samoens, now in 
the path, now out of it, through wild woodland 
scenery, which has dwelt in our recollection as 
amongst the most exquisite with which our wander- 
ings have made us acquainted. Sometimes we 
wound our way through beech woods so deep as 
almost to exclude the light of day, and quite to 
shut out every glimpse of the bold rocky flanks of 
the valley we were in. Sometimes we tripped 
lightly down over slopes and knolls of the greenest 
and softest grass, broken here and there by a little 
patch of trees, in the midst of which nestled a chalet 
of russet brown, or rising into a gentle eminence 
on which was perched a sunburnt barn or cowshed. 
We could scarcely resist the temptation which pre- 
sented itself at every moment, to stray into the 
green embowered alleys that opened every here and 



THE COL DE SAGEROUX. 



175 



there on either side of our descending way. "When- 
ever we emerged from the trees the prospect we 
had before us was the smiling valley of Samoens, 
basking in sunshine, beneath a layer of fleecy clouds 
that lay upon the mountain tops ; once or twice we 
saw the lofty summit of the Pointe de Salles peep 
out for a moment above that sea of mist. About 
two hours and a half were thus pleasantly spent be- 
tween the Col de Goleze and Samoens : we reached 
the latter place at half-past four, and driving on at 
once to Sixt, brought our easy day's journey to an 
end before sunset. 

The Col de Sageroux, which I have mentioned 
before as one of the passages from the valley of the 
Rhone to Sixt, leads from Champery beneath Les 
Tours de Sallieres to the Fond de la Combe, and 
thence by the char road past the Fer a Cheval to 
Sixt. It was formerly a pass difficult, and even 
dangerous in certain states of the weather, but I 
believe it may now be safely traversed under all 
ordinary circumstances. I have always heard it 
spoken of as an excursion of great interest, but I 
am not yet personally acquainted with it. 

There are also, I believe, passages leading from 
the most accessible parts of the amphitheatre of the 
Fer a Cheval directly to St. Maurice and to Mar- 



176 



FEOM MARTIGNY TO SIXT. 



tigny : judging from the districts amongst which 
they must conduct the traveller, they can hardly 
fail to be grand in themselves, and to command 
extensive and distant prospects, but I have never 
even met with any person who knew anything 
about them. 



177 



CHAP. VII. 

. . . "He pry'd through Nature's store 
********* 

What she had hidden 'neath her verdant floor, 

The vegetable and the mineral reigns." Thomson, 

" Sweet specimens ! which toiling to obtain 
He split great rocks, like so much wood, in twain." 

Mrs. Hemans. 



THE FOSSILS OP MOED. 

FROM SERVOZ TO MOED. — LES EBOULEMENTS. — THE VAL DIOZA. — 
MOED. — THE FOSSIL BED. — A STORM ON THE MOUNTAINS. — A 

NARROW ESCAPE AN INCIDENT OF THE STORM ON THE MER DE 

GLACE. — SECOND VISIT TO MOED. — FROM CLUSES TO SIXT. — LES 
FONDS IN THE MORNING. — CHEMIN DES GRASSES CHEVRES. — FOSSIL 

TEETH. — RENDEZVOUS AT MOED. — INTERIOR OF A CHALET. 

HOW WE PASSED THE NIGHT. — SUNRISE OUR COOX. — A SECOND 

NIGHT IN THE CHALET. — DESCRIPTION OF THE FOSSILS. — SPRINGING 

A MINE. — DESCENT TO THE DIOZA. — ASCENT OF THE BREVEN 

A COOL PATH. — A TOILETTE ON THE SNOW. — CHAMOUNI. 

In the autumn of 1857 I spent upwards of six 
weeks at Chamouni and in the neighbourhood, and 
soon after I arrived, Balmat made known to me that 
he had found, some two years before, a bed of very 

N 



178 



balmat's discovery. 



beautiful fossils, chiefly ferns, not very far from the 
summit of the Col d'Anterne, and that he had kept 
the information to himself ever since, in order, as 
he was kind enough to wish, that we might, as it 
were, share the honours, though we certainly could 
not share the merits, of the discovery. There were 
so many other excursions to be made, however, that 
it was not till Tuesday, the 8th of September, that 
we were able to set off on our exploring expedition. 
We took with us a worthy man, Jean Michel 
Bellin, — the same who is mentioned inmy " Wan- 
derings "as having acted as porter for us when my 
wife and I camped out on the Mer de Glace, — as 
we wished to be able to blast the rock, and he is 
the only miner in the valley of Chamouni. The 
nearest way lies over the Breven, whence you 
descend into the valley of the Dioza behind, and 
crossing the stream mount ao;ain 1500 or 2000 feet 
on the opposite side. But I wished to see the 
commencement of the passage of the Col d'Anterne, 
as taken from Servoz, and I was desirous also of 
reaching the destined spot as early as possible in 
the day. We therefore walked down to Servoz 
and slept there. By four o'clock the next morning 
we were on our way towards the Col d'Anterne. 
The weather was very threatening, and soon after 



LA CHA1NE DES FYS. 



179 



we started the rain came on to pour so hard that 
we were obliged to halt and to shelter for the best 
part of an hour under the broad eaves of a chalet. 

It was significant of the early hour at which we 
were abroad that, although we were leaning against 
the cottage and chatting all the while, we did not 
appear to disturb anybody ; and we left the village 
to which it belonged soon after five, without having 
attracted the notice of any one but a stray cur or 
two, who came barking at our heels as only the 
Alpine curs can do. We pushed on steadily, ex- 
posed sometimes to very angry showers, but still 
with intervals of finer weather long enough for us 
to get tolerably dry again. I cannot say I have 
retained any very vivid impression of the scenery. 
As we ascended, the clouds settled on the peaks and 
ranges above us, and everything looked gloomy and 
dreary enough. There is a magnificent limestone 
range, called the Chaine des Fys, which drops 
abruptly perhaps a couple of thousand feet, in a 
series of stupendous precipices, just above the Col 
d'Anterne, and we were working our way along the 
slopes at the base of this range, in a direction nearly 
parallel with it. From one part of the chain, at 
some former time, a vast avalanche of rocks and 
stones has descended, and strewn the side of the 



180 



LES EBOULEMENTS. 



mountain with its enormous debris for a length and 
breadth of many miles. The only place where I 
have seen traces of such wholesale mountain dis- 
integration is on the passage of the Diablerets, 
where the same striking phenomenon has taken 
place on even a larger scale. The tract which is 
here covered with the ruins of a mountain is called 
" La Montagne des Eboulements," and very rough 
and fatiguing we found it. 

The place for which we were bound is not upon 
the pathway to the Col d' Anterne, but a little nearer 
to the head of the Yal Dioza (the wild valley which 
lies to the north of the range of the Breven), and 
about a thousand feet, so far as I can remember, 
below the summit of the Col. The upper part of 
the Yal Dioza is narrow enough, but lower down 
it widens considerably ; the range of the Breven, 
and the chain which runs from the Buet and abuts 
upon the Chaine des Fys at the Col, forming a kind 
of Y, — the angle being just beneath the massive 
structure of the Buet. The aperture, however, be- 
tween the two arms of the Y, as it widens out, is 
not occupied by a plain through which the Dioza 
meanders, but that stream hugs the left-hand stroke 
of the letter, and pursues its fretful course close 
beneath the Breven, while from the right-hand 



THE CHALETS OF MOED. 



181 



stroke a spur is pushed forward, which occupies the 
greater part of the opening. It rises indeed to a 
very considerable height, just opposite to the top of 
the Cheniinee of the Breven, — the spot to which 
tourists generally ascend, — and falls away above the 
stream in a series of abrupt and formidable preci- 
pices, between which and the Breven the Dioza is 
left with very little space indeed to spare. Our way 
lay across the neck or depression between the Col 
d'Anterne and this subsidiary offshoot, and after 
passing through this opening we had to descend a 
short distance, when we found ourselves amongst the 
cluster of huts called the Chalets of Moed, wonder- 
fully dirty, and tenanted then only by women, chil- 
dren, and pigs, — the pigs forming the most nume- 
rous, and apparently the most important, portion of 
the population. It was as well for us that the men 
were all out looking after the sheep or cattle on the 
mountain sides, for we wished to be at liberty to 
pursue our researches without being interfered with ; 
and we thought it likely enough that if any of the 
men followed us, and saw what we were about, they 
would fancy we had found a gold mine, and disturb 
the specimens we intended to leave for a more 
favourable opportunity of bringing back. 

The fossil bed is a little higher than the chalets, 

N 3 



182 



THE FOSSIL BED. 



and a little nearer to the head of the valley. It lies 
in a narrow ravine — scarcely more than a scar on 
the surface of the mountain — the channel of an in- 
significant little watercourse ; and the productive 
portion is certainly not more than a hundred yards 
from top to bottom. It is extraordinary how Balmat 
should have found it out, and still more so how, 
having been there but once before, he should have 
remembered its position so accurately, that though 
there seems nothing to distinguish it from fifty other 
little ravines in the same neighbourhood, he walked 
straight to it without the loss of a yard. But Bal- 
mat has a most faithful and retentive memory, and 
goes about with his eyes open to everything that is 
worth looking at ; and one day, as he was making 
his way from Chamouni to the Col d'Anterne, by 
way of the Breven and the Yal Dioza, he picked up, 
near the banks of that stream, a bit of black shaly 
stone, about a couple of inches square, in which he 
observed a few fragments of a different colour. On 
looking at this more closely, he was convinced they 
were bits of vegetable fibre of some kind, in a fossil 
state, and he came to the conclusion that where these 
came from something better would be found. He 
was close to a little torrent at the time, and resolved 
not to quit its course. Every here and there he 



HOW BALMAT DISCOVERED IT. 183 

picked up another and another bit of the same kind 
of substance, or intermixture of substances, and 
patiently hunting these indications up to their origin, 
he came at last, a good fifteen hundred feet above the 
place where he had found the first of them, upon a 
narrow outcropping thread of slaty schist, washed 
and polished by a tiny rill of water, beneath whose 
transparent medium fern-leaves, as perfect as when 
they were first imbedded, tinted, some apparently 
with the natural green, others with a golden lustre, 
greeted his eye and rewarded him for his patient 
search. 

It was about eight o'clock when we arrived, and 
we soon selected a favourable spot to work at, and 
began chipping out specimens. There was no diffi- 
culty in finding them, for the whole rock seemed to 
be composed of them. They lay oftentimes twenty 
and thirty caked together in the thickness of an 
inch, and wherever you split a piece of the sub- 
stance a fresh set of fossils was disclosed. We 
worked hard for several hours, and selected a great 
variety of beautiful specimens, which we laid aside 
to be brought over to Chamouni by porters. To- 
wards two o'clock, however, the weather, which had 
been showery all day, showed unmistakable signs 
of a heavy storm. Old Bellin, who was quite as 

N 4 



184 



A STORM. 



much interested in the matter as ourselves, made up 
his mind to pass the night at the chalets, and to stay 
where he was, and quarry on as long as the weather 
would allow him : we were to return to Chamouni 
that night, and send over men for the cargo of fossils 
we had laid on one side. Balmat filled his handker- 
chief with some of the most exquisite of the smaller 
pieces, and I did the same with mine, and bidding 
good-bye to our indefatigable friend Bellin, we 
turned homewards, passing above the Chalets of 
Moed, so as to escape at once the filth of its alleys 
and the curiosity of its inhabitants. 

We were just crossing the little ridge from which we 
had descended upon Moed in the morning, when the 
storm burst upon us in all its fury. "We were wet to 
the skin before we had gone fifty yards, and thought 
we could hardly be exposed to worse weather. How- 
ever, it did not last very long, and the sun came out 
brightly afterwards, and we were beginning to feel 
a little less draggled and uncomfortable, when we 
observed dense masses of black cloud rolling up the 
valley with amazing rapidity, and darting forth at 
intervals lurid flashes of forked lightning. I never 
saw a storm come up so fast. Almost before we had 
time to think of it, the rush, as of a whirlwind, was 
upon us, and with a shriek and a howl the tempest 



A STORM. 



185 



wrapped us in its murky folds. The hail and the 
rain pelted horizontally into our faces. We could 
not see a hundred yards in any direction, and the 
lightning played about us — apparently quite close, 
for there was no perceptible interval between the 
flash and the report. Electrical considerations would 
have counselled us to let our sticks go, and ourselves 
to lie down ; but the storm was accompanied by a 
sudden lowering of the temperature ; the blast 
swept through us, and to lie down would have been 
to die of cold and exhaustion — and we knew of at 
least one watercourse that must be crossed. It was 
true that we had passed it without wetting our feet 
in the morning ; but such rain as this, we feared, 
would turn it into a torrent that it would be hope- 
less to attempt to leap without our sticks; so we 
did the best we could, by carrying them nearly level, 
with the point a little downwards, and happily es- 
caped without injury from the lightning. 

The storm was a very protracted one, and long after 
that portion which was so highly charged with electri- 
city had passed by, we continued to be enveloped in 
a dense and driving rain, which prevented our seeing 
Avhither we were going, and but for what we had 
passed through, the lightning and thunder would 
have been fearful. However, there was no great 



186 



A MOUNTAIN TORRENT. 



danger of losing our way. We knew the torrent 
was on our right, and that we must strike it as early 
as we could, if we were to get across it in safety — 
and we knew also that we had no business to go 
uphill. We were not long, therefore, in reaching 
the stream ; but how changed from the little rivulet 
of clear water, just murmuring as it bounded lightly 
from stone to stone, that we had scarcely more than 
strided across a few hours a 2:0 ! It was now eis;ht 
or nine feet wide, full four feet deep in dark liquid 
mud, and rolling down, in its wild rage, great blocks 
of stone, as if they had been playthings. The 
sound of the masses which were tumbled over and 
over, as it came up dull and muffled out of the thick 
and discoloured flood, was really awful. Balmat 
leaped across it, with the help of his stick, and just 
landed on the other side. He turned at once and 
shouted something to me at the top of his voice, 
which I understood to be " Dangereux ! dangereux ! " 
and, as I thought, waved his hand in warning. I 
bawled out in reply, that if he would stay where he 
was, I would seek a passage higher up, and come 
down and join him. I thought he made a sign of 
acquiescence, and went up by the side of the torrent, 
forcing my way with great difficulty. In about ten 
minutes I came to a place where the channel forked 



A NARROW ESCAPE. 



187 



into two, and now attacking the enemy's forces in 
detail, I won my way across easily enough, and made 
all haste to the place where I had left my companion. 

In order to approach it I had to descend a very 
steep ravine of slaty debris, covered with a rank 
and dripping vegetation. I had not gone far before 
I slipped, and shot down some fifty feet without 
being able to check myself at all. I clung to my 
fossils as long as I could; but I was in danger, 
for just below me was the black and angry flood, 
perceptibly swollen within the last quarter of an 
hour, and the dead weight of my bundle of stones 
was a serious addition to the forces that were drag-- 
ffino- me to the brink of destruction. Had I ffone 
but a few feet further, and slipped into the torrent, 
I should have been " perdu sans ressource," as Bal- 
mat had warned me when we were on the other side ; 
and I believe he spoke nothing but the literal truth. 
So I was obliged to let my burden go, and in a 
moment it was engulphed and swept away. For- 
tunately, now that I had my hands more at liberty, 
and had parted with this incumbrance, I was able to 
stop myself, though my hands were much cut by the 
effort; but I was not more than four or five feet 
from the stream when I did so. If I had left my 
stick when we were in the thunder-cloud, I must 



188 



A DILEMMA. 



have perished here. The water might or might not 
have been deep enough to take me overhead, but it 
would not have been a question of swimming. I 
should have been knocked to pieces between the 
water and the rocks. 

I crept cautiously enough along the bank of 
debris, and soon reached the spot where I had left 
Balmat ; but he was gone ! I shouted as loud as I 
could, but my voice was drowned in the roar of the 
wind and the torrent, and if he had been twenty 
yards off, I doubt if he would have heard me. I 
waited nearly a quarter of an hour, at what I had 
considered the trysting place, but at length I was 
so cold that I dared not wait any longer. The rain 
and hail were horizontal, and the artillery of heaven 
was still playing fearfully about and around me. I 
climbed painfully and anxiously up the ravine where 
I had so nearly come to a bad end, and reached 
some turf-slopes above. Here I wandered back- 
wards and forwards, shouting minute signals to 
Balmat, but in vain; and at length I thought it 
safer to go on. I knew my direction, and had 
descended some distance when a lift in the mist 
took place, though the rain continued: I thought 
it a good opportunity to look for Balmat, and went 
back a long way. I could see nothing of him, and 



A MISUNDERSTANDING. 



189 



very soon the mists came swooping down again, and 
I turned homewards in good earnest. In about half 
an hour I came upon Balmat, sheltering under a 
rock — one of the " eboulements " — and waiting for 
me in great anxiety. It appeared that when I 
thought he said " dangereux," he had only used the 
milder phrase, "pas trop bon," — that he had under- 
stood me to say I would go round, but not that he 
was to wait where he was, and that he had shouted 
in reply: "You will find the path a little way 
above ; take that, and I will wait for you there ; " 
and he had thought I made signs to say I under- 
stood: yet we were only some ten feet apart. Of 
course we had not parted two minutes before we were 
out of sight of one another. 

We now plodded homewards, and for the last half 
hour before we reached Servoz the weather was fine, 
and I remember being struck with the extreme 
beauty of the descent, through woods of rich and 
variegated foliage — now pouring, rather than drip- 
ping, after the recent storm, — with the green slopes 
of the Col de Voza and the Forclaz rising beyond 
the plain of the Arve. On this descent we over- 
took a lady who had been crossing the Col d'Anterne, 
and had been, like ourselves, exposed to the full fury 
of the tempest on the bare and shelterless mountain 



190 THE STORM ON THE 3IEE DE GLACE. 



side. She looked fearfully wet and draggled, and 
her clothes hung about her in close heavy folds, 
which seemed to tie her up as she walked. She 
had been obliged to come down from her mule, and 
even when dismounted she was once carried fairly 
off her legs by the blast. 

It is wonderful how such bad weather, to use a 
common phrase, " takes it out of one." I have 
scarcely ever felt such mortal fatigue as when I was 
toiling; back along that somewhat monotonous bit of 
road between Les Ouches and Chamouni. I hardly 
knew how to get one leg in front of the other, or 
how, when I had accomplished that, to drag the other 
after it. 

We heard the next day of an incident that oc- 
curred on the Mer de Glace that evening which 
might have led to consequences of a very serious 
nature. Two young men, with whom I had dined 
the day before, started in the morning, but not very 
early, on account of the threatening aspect of the 
w r eather, for the Col du Geant. They got as far as 
the great snow-basin above the Seraques, when a 
blinding mist drove in from over the Col. They 
had told me what difficulty they had had in procur- 
ing decent guides. Those w T ho came next on the 
rota when they applied happened to be a very 



THE STORM OX THE HER EE GLACE. 191 



rasped set. and the chief <mide declared that the 
regulations should not be infringed upon. By dint 
of patient waiting and watching, they managed to 
escape the worst of them, but were obliged to put 
up with men of whom only one, I think, had made 
the passage before, and none of whom inspired them 
with any confidence. In the obscurity, their con- 
ductors lost their way, and nightfall caught them 
still wandering about the great basin of the Geant. 
They were obliged to huddle together for warmth, 
and to pass the hours of darkness as best they might 
upon the ice. During the night it cleared, after 
some hours of truly fearful rain, and they were 
able to grope their way back through the difficult 
passage of the Seraques. They reached the Mont- 
anvert at half-past three in the morning, half dead 
with cold and exposure. I did not see them myself, 
but I spoke with a person who had heard the story 
from their own lips. 

We sent over porters who fetched the fossils we 
had left by the side of the rivulet; and a day or 
two afterwards, being about to revisit Sixt, made 
arrangements with old Bellin and one of his sons to 
meet us at Moed on Tuesday the 15th of Septem- 
ber, with provisions for two or three days, as we 
had seen enough only to whet our curiosity, and 



192 PREPARATIONS FOR A SECOND YISIT. 



were anxious to make a more thorough examination 
of the contents of Balmat's fossil bed. The people 
at the chalets had quitted them the day after the 
storm, and betaken themselves to less elevated habi- 
tations, but there would be plenty of hay and pro- 
bably some fire-wood left, and Bellin would know 
to whom they belonged, so that we could make 
compensation for what we consumed ; and with 
these aids we hoped to sleep pretty comfortably in 
one of the deserted chalets. It may be useful to 
some reader to know about how much food is 
needed for such an expedition, so I will give the 
list of our articles of consumption. The party was 
to consist of Balmat, old Bellin, and myself, and we 
expected one at least of Bellin's sons would be back- 
wards and forwards, carrying fossils to Chamouni, 
and we therefore had to be ready for him also. We 
intended to spend two days and a half at the 
chalets. We ordered, therefore, one shoulder and 
three "pieces" (hunks of three or four pounds 
each) of mutton, a small bit of tongue, four loaves, 
two pounds of cheese, one pound of butter, three 
pounds of sugar, half a pound of coffee, a quarter 
of a pound of tea, some salt, a bottle of boiled 
cream, three bottles of old St. Jean, and a pint of 
brandy. Our ({ service " consisted of one coffee-pot 
and one cup. 



A CHEAP RIDE. 



193 



Balniat and I left Chamouni on the Friday after 
our first expedition to Moed, and slept again at 
Servoz. We went on the second occasion to the 
less fashionable hotel — the Hotel de FUnivers — 
where we were incomparably more comfortable, and 
were charged only about half what we paid at the 
other. Starting soon after daybreak, in a char of 
the country which was going down to market, we 
rode to St. Martin for three francs ! and after 
breakfasting there, hired a trap to take us on to 
Ciuses, whence we walked to Samoens. The walk 
from Ciuses into the valley of the Giffre is even 
more beautiful than that from Bonneville. The 
first hour's journey is a steep climb through richly 
cultivated slopes, where the quantity of fruit trees 
and of fruit upon them, when we passed, was really 
prodigious. At every turn you come upon clumps 
of ash, chestnut, beech, oak, elm, and other forest 
trees, all of very fine growth, and intermingled in 
the most agreeable fashion. In two places there 
were narrow lanes cut in deep thickets of beech, so 
shady and so tempting that one might have passed 
the day beneath the arching foliage, and not been 
weary. We slept at Samoens, and on the Sunday 
moved up to Sixt, where we revisited twice the beau- 
tiful Vallee des Fonds. 

o 



194 WILD FRUITS OF LES FONDS. 

On the appointed Tuesday morning we started 
from Sixt about half-past six, and we agreed, instead 
of taking the usual path to the Col d' Anterne, to go 
once more up the valley of which we could never 
have enough, and see how the Plateau des Fonds 
looked by the morning sun — it had always been 
towards mid-day when I had been there hitherto. 
When we reached the bridge below it, I proposed to 
Balmat that instead of taking the pathway to the 
left, we should make our way by the side of the 
torrent which pours wildly down through a black 
ravine on the right. The grass was wet with rain 
which had fallen in the preceding night, but the sun 
was now shining out of a sky of cloudless blue, and 
we wound our way up the ravine, through groups of 
firs and beeches, with the clear stream dashing in a 
broken course beside us. Presently we crossed a 
little lateral ravine — now the boundary of my pro- 
perty — and entered upon a slope once richly clad 
with firs, but now denuded of most of them. 
Here a beautiful little cascade, fringed with a rich 
growth of ferns and water-loving plants, lent an 
additional charm to the scene ; but what struck 
me particularly was the wonderful quantity of 
wild fruit to be had for the gathering. Even 
at this late period of the season, strawberries, 



LE CHEMIN PES GRASSES CHEVRES. 195 



bilberries, raspberries, and stone-bramble-berries 
were flourishing in the wildest profusion, and 
afforded us an ample and luscious early dessert. 
I have before me now a tracing of a wild straw- 
berry, which I made on the spot ; it was an inch 
in length, and more than two inches round the 
widest part. 

Presently we rejoined the track leading to the 
Buet; but, as soon as we had crossed the stream 
which comes from the Col de l'Echaud, we turned 
sharply to the right and followed an ascending path- 
way, running back along the side of the valley in the 
direction of the Pointe de Salles. Along this path, 
called " Le Chemin des Grasses Chevres," are to be 
found the most magnificent firs and larches that this 
district produces ; it leads up to a wild plain lying be- 
neath the southern precipices of the Pointe de Salles, 
where are situated the chalets and the pasturages 
d'Anterne, and across which the regular passage 
from Sixt to Servoz by the Col d'Anterne is carried. 
We might have followed the Chemin des Grasses 
Chevres to its junction with the path to the Col 
d'Anterne, and have ascended to the top of the Col 
and thence descended upon Moed ; but we preferred, 
after a very short time, to strike directly up the 
mountain side, and make as nearly as we could in a 



196 



FOSSIL TEETH. 



straight line for the point of the ridge just above 
the chalets. All at once, to our surprise, we emerged 
on to the top of one of those wild crests of lime- 
stone I have attempted to describe when speaking 
of the wav to the Buet. and stood on a narrow ridge 
clad with bushes and brambles to the very brink of 
the precipices — many hundred feet deep — on either 
side. We looked long for chamois, but it was too 
late in the day to meet with them so low as this. 
We found a large ants' nest, with a cone some 
eighteen inches high, very near the end of the narrow 
ridge of rock. 

We now crossed for half an hour some broken 
ground, partly peat, partly turf, partly of rough 
stones, till we reached a long, gentle, uniform slope, 
where all vegetation ceased, and a black wilderness 
of debris and broken shale presented anything but 
an inviting aspect. Balmat began to hunt keenly 
for fossils, as we were approaching a fossil district, 
and he told me that not far from here he had once 
picked up a fossil tooth three inches long, which the 
Genevese naturalists pronounced to be a hippo- 
potamus's. We had not gone many steps before my 
eye lighted on a tooth about two inches long, so 
white, and in such a perfect state of preservation, 
that I supposed it to be some sheep's or cow's tooth 



MARMOTS. 



197 



recently dropped there ; and, pointing to it, I said, 
laughing, " Here. Balmat, you want teeth ; I have 
found you one already ; " but, on picking it up, it 
turned out to be a genuine fossil ; though, if it ever 
belonged to a hippopotamus, he must have been a 
small one. We spent a long time foraging on this 
and the succeeding slopes, and in the intervening ra- 
vines, and found many belemnites and ammonites — 
amongst them some very perfect specimens. All the 
best specimens, however, were so deeply imbedded 
in the large pieces of rock, that, without hammer or 
chisel, we had no chance of cutting them out. 

"We struck the ridge, and were greeted with the 
grand prospect of Mont Blanc, about a mile or two to 
the east of the Cold'Anterne and at a higher elevation, 
and had a very long walk round the great shoulders of 
turf-covered rock which descend towards the valley 
of the Dioza. The number of marmots that we 
started was extraordinary, and some of them were 
so fat that they could scarcely waddle to their holes. 
Their shrill whistle resounded in our ears at every 
moment. At length, after eight hours' walking, we 
reached our fossil bed, hungry and thirsty enough, 
for we had brought nothing with us but a scrap of 
tongue which a worthy farmer at Servoz, who had 
tried his best to make us drunk (and had succeeded 
o 3 



198 



THE EENDEZVOUS. 



wonderfully well in the attempt upon himself), had 
insisted upon Balmat's taking away with him, and 
which we ate on the mountain side without any 
bread, slaking our thirst with our own extem- 
porised lemonade, a beverage not to be despised, con- 
cocted out of citric acid, sugar, lemon essence, and 
water. 

There was no one at the rendezvous, but we 
were cheered by seeing Bellin's tools lying about, 
and presently we saw him and his son Francois 
emerge from one of the chalets at about ten minutes' 
walk from us. Balmat shouted in patois, as a ra- 
venous Alpine man only can shout, that we were an 
hungered ; whereupon Bellin turned back into the 
chalet, and presently afterwards an excellent lunch 
made its appearance. "W e then set to our task, and 
worked hard all the afternoon, trying new places 
higher up and lower down, and getting every now 
and then into a vein of fresh plants. There is no 
work much harder than sitting with one's back bent 
half double, splitting and chipping stones with a 
chisel and hammer. About six o'clock, having had 
enough of it, we knocked off work and went down 
to the chalets. There were about forty of one sort 
or another, so that there were a good many to choose 
from ; but there was one, Bellin said, which was 
considered the cleanest and best, whither any chance 



OUR QUARTERS. 199 



wayfarer was always recommended to resort for a 
night's lodging ; so of course we chose that. I will 
try to give some idea of our quarters. 

The whole building is about twenty feet by four- 
teen. The walls, for a height of six or seven feet, 
are made of rough undressed stone. Above that 
the structure is of wood. The larger part of the 
ground floor is taken up by the cow-shed, but a space 
of about fourteen feet by six is left for <e parlour and 
kitchen and all." This part is open from the floor 
to the roof, the cow-shed part being timbered over 
with undressed fir-poles, and the part above it being 
reserved for sleeping accommodation and for a store- 
place for anything there may be to keep. A rough 
ladder about eight feet high gives access from the 
house-place to this upper story. The si parlour and 
kitchen and all " is divided by a rickety partition 
from the cow-shed, which opens out of it by a narrow 
door ; it is itself portioned off into two parts — one of 
which, about eight feet by six, is the living-place; 
the other is the pantry, larder, store-room, and wine- 
cellar. There is no chimney and no fireplace. The 
fire is made on the earth, or rather rock, for the 
floor is a broken mixture of earth and rough rock, 
in which rock predominates. The smoke finds its 
own way out, chiefly by the door ; and past your 
o 4 



200 FURNITURE OF A CHALET. 



eyes, wherever you may chance to be. There is no 
lack of ventilation, for the gable opposite to the 
parlour-end is made of planks, fixed about two or 
three inches apart, so as to admit air and rain very 
freely. The smell of the departed cows still hangs 
fragrantly about the place, and the filth collected 
outside at the cow-house end is a serious obstacle to 
your working your way out to the clean part of the 
rivulet running by its side, to find which you must 
get quite clear of the village. There is one small 
flap-table folded up against the partition between 
the house-place and the cow-shed : it has one leg to 
support it ; there are two four-legged benches and 
one three-legged stool to sit upon, and voila the 
furniture. 

We have brought tea and sugar and boiled cream, 
but, alas, how to make tea ! I have provided a 
coffee-pot, but Balmat pronounces it soft-soldered, 
and fears it will not stand fire. There is only one 
pot — " marmite " as the Chamouni men call it in 
patois — of any kind, discoverable in the village, and 
that has been used to make soup for the pigs, and 
has never been cleaned since, and is of so strong a 
flavour that Balmat says it has actually made his 
head ache — a fact confirmed by young Bellin, who 
comes in from an independent tour of discovery 



SUNSET, 



201 



complaining of a headache from the stench of the 
" marmite." In despair we put the coffee-pot to the 
test. All honour to its immortal maker ! Soft- 
soldered or hard, it stands the ordeal, and we boil 
up a decoction of tea in it, as we had done years 
before at the chalets of the Mattmarksee, and at our 
bivouac at the head of the Mer de Glace. 

Meanwhile, however, a shout of triumph from with- 
out announces that that enterprising discoverer, young 
Bellin, nothing daunted by nightfall, has continued 
his investigations, and has found a prize in a distant 
chalet. Presently he appears, laden with the spoil, 
two 66 marmites," both tolerably clean, and a perfect 
mine of cups and plates, about the texture of coarse 
flower-pots. The one cup from Chamouni is now 
put religiously aside for " Monsieur," or " Monche," 
as I am more often called in patois, and " marmites " 
and " asshiettas " are thoroughly washed, and water 
set to boil over the fire. It now gets quite dark, after 
a superb sunset, in which Mont Blanc has been lit up 
with the glorious ruddy light that Alpine ad- 
venturers, careful of the signs of the weather, love 
to see, and which to-night dwells fondly on the 
solemn summit, long, long after every lower peak 
has ceased to glow. And now we find we have no 
light but the fire ! with all our care, we have never 



202 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THE NIGHT. 



thought of the candles. Balmat is ei desole " at the 
extent of the inconvenience to me, who make and 
think very light of it, and rather enjoy the fun, 
until a something reminds me that I am in a chalet. 
I have been overcome with fatigue, and have sat me 
down incautiously on the bench and leaned against the 
partition; and I began to think not quite so hopefully 
as before of what the night would be. After tea, 
about eight o'clock, we lit some sticks of dry wood 
to make a little light, and Balmat and old Bellin 
" arranged " my couch. It looked like hay, but 
turned out to be a substance peculiar to chalets — a 
mixture, about half and half probably, of hay and 
fleas. I turned in fully dressed, except my boots and 
hat, and presently three burrowing animals near me 
settled into their places, and before long we all four 
fell asleep, notwithstanding all our little discomforts, 
and slept with varying perseverance and success, and 
with differing lucid intervals, till five o'clock on 
Wednesday morning. Whenever I was awake I 
heard the mice scuttering about in all directions, 
and Balmat declared that one passed close to his 
face. The first who stirred was Balmat; and it 
was here as it had been at the Grands Mulets a 
fortnight before — the instant one moved, all the 
rest sprang to their feet with an alacrity which did 



A TOILETTE AL FKESCO. 



203 



not say too much for the comfort of our sleeping- 
place. 

Out we turn — men, hay, fleas, and all — into a 
glorious crisp September morning, not a cloud in 
the clear sky, not a speck of mist on mountain top 
or in dale or valley. I get out my little dressing- 
case and seek the first clean rill I can find, nearly 
bent double by the prickling hay, which makes me 
feel something like a porcupine with his quills stuck 
in the wrong way. It has found its way up every- 
where, and seems to have constituted itself the 
appropriate lining of shirt, trowsers, stockings, and 
everything else. Here I gladly divest myself of 
my garments, and make that chase, so necessary 
after such a night, where, as Balmat feelingly re- 
marks, " Le gibier ne manque pas ; " and, stripping 
to the skin upon the turf, all white and crisp with 
hoar-frost, indulge in a luxury so little known 
there that I expect to see the stream stand still. 
Whilst I am dressing, the palest and most trans- 
parent blush of rose suffuses the eastern sky, and 
even tinges the peaks of the Breven ; but it is too 
fine a morning for it to last, and before it can fling 
its transient beauty over the distant snows of Mont 
Blanc, a bright pale streak of light falls upon his 
lofty head, and gradually steals lower and lower 



204 



AN IMPORTANT OMISSION. 



down., till one by one the Monts Maudits, the Mont 
Blanc de Tacul, the Dome, and the Aiguille chi 
Midi have caught the morning beam, and the Ca- 
lotte, the Corridor, and the Cote are already 
drowned in a flood of light. 

I leave the soap, and sponge, and brush, for 
Balmat's use — the Bellins are above such human 
frailties — and when I enter the hut again the fire 
is bright, the tea is made, and our small board 
literally groans under the weight of bread and meat, 
and cheese, and other good things. One meal is a 
good deal like another ; tea and wine are the re- 
spective characteristics of breakfast and dinner, but 
there is little else to distinguish them. This meal 
is quickly despatched, and by half- past six w^e are 
ready for work. Bellin the elder, and Balmat, 
make for the fossils ; I stay behind to attempt a 
sketch of the Breven and Mont Blanc. All goes 
well till I come to put in the snow, when I find, 
alack ! that though well furnished with, white paint, 
I have never thought of the brush. I don't consider 
my handiwork worthy of the excessive pains and 
the amount of inventive skill which supplied the 
deficiency, in a sihiilar case, on the Torrenthorn 
some three years before *, so my sketch e'en goes 

* See " Wanderings among the High Alps," chap. xi. 



EESEAECHES. 



205 



without it, and by eight o'clock I too am at work 
breaking stones and my back at once. Francois 
Bellin is breaking his back in another way. He 
has started with about sixty pounds of fossils, with 
which pleasant load he is descending to the Dioza 
and will soon be mounting the Breven. He is to 
deposit them near the chalets of Planpraz, and from 
there to return with a fresh bottle of boiled cream 
and a c£ bougie/' that we may not be without light 
this evening. 

All day long, from morning till nightfall, in 
early morning's dew, in a blazing noonday sun, and 
in the sultry heat of afternoon, we work steadily 
on. We try new ground, and Bellin the elder, our 
staff and stay, springs a mine and we discover some 
fine specimens, but not finer than what we have 
already chipped out from close to the surface. The 
stone is very brittle and yielding, and does not 
split kindly. We come across rare things, but 
cannot chip them out. One vein is christened 
" casse-cceur," it is so obstinate, cross-grained, and 
mechant ; but late in the afternoon Balmat mounts 
again to our second place of search, and succeeds in 
discovering a band of fossils more beautiful than 
any we have yet turned up, and as it is getting 
towards night we agree to mine there to-morrow ; 



206 



COOKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 



and the men set to work to arrange a new load for 
young Bellin's gratification, while I, being tho- 
roughly tired and my back aching to excess, leave 
them to it, and taking with me the fresh cream and 
the candle with which the active young Bellin has 
just returned, descend to the chalets laden with all 
our meat-bones and meat debris of to-day and 
yesterday. I light a fire and boil the (i marmite," 
and have just had time to break the bones up, cut 
the meat into little pieces and set it on the fire to 
simmer, when I am attracted by the loveliest sun- 
set I have seen during the whole of this fine season. 
The cook, however, in a chalet and with damp 
wood for fuel, has no sinecure, and I had to alter- 
nate between a standing position at the door, ad- 
miring the sunset, and a kneeling position before 
the fire, blowing till my face was as red as the 
embers, and the tears trickled down my cheeks 
with the acrid smoke. About half-past six or seven 
the rest come down, and in half an hour the broth 
is ready, and elicits the most satisfactory panegyrics 
from my hungry guests. Balmat declares he finds 
the inn cheap, the fare excellent, and the landlord 
obliging, and declares his intention of patronising it 
himself and recommending his friends to do the 
same : while the Bellins, in homelier phrase, give 



SUNRISE UPON MONT BLANC. 



207 



utterance to repeated and heartfelt exclamations of 
" Bon, bon ! " which go to the heart of the cook. 

It is half-past eight before we get to roost to-night, 
but we do sleep, spite of the fleas and the cold, for 
we are all tired, and it is half-past five on Thursday 
morning before any one rouses. Again I turn out, 
in a glorious morning (( which had arisen as serene 
and calm as the blue eternity out of which it came; " 
and beneath a cloudless sky, and with the hoar- 
frost yet upon the ground, I indulge again in the 
cheap luxury of a cold bath, and revel in the won- 
derful spectacle of which the eye and the mind 
never tire, — which never loses its mystery, its 
solemnity, its novelty, — a sunrise upon Mont Blanc. 
It is a sight I do not often see without calling to 
mind the beautiful words of a most accomplished and 
fervent writer : — " The grand silence of earth and 
skies, just broken by the faint twitter of awaken- 
ing life — the pure freshness that breathes over the 
yet untainted world — the exquisite purple of the 
eastern hills edged with a silvery rim of light, deep- 
ening into broader and more lustrous gold — the pale, 
cold grey of receding night, where moon and stars 
still beautiful are dimly vanishing — the rich, influent 
tide of day, so different from the melting softness of 
its ebbing hues, that is reflected every moment with 



208 



THE RAVINE. 



increasing sharpness from the objects over which it 
rolls, and that lights up as with the joyousness of 
hope into boundless brilliancy the dewy womb of 
morning — these effects, so rapid in their succession 
and so glorious, so like a new creation — take us 
back to the beginning of time, and transport us to 
the Eden of our first parents, and make us feel, 
like them, in the presence of these sublime trans- 
itions of unchanging nature, that the Spirit of the 
Li vino: God is around us." * 

On my return I find Francois Bellin already off 
with his heavy load, and after a quick repast we, 
too, repair to our posts, and I examine somewhat 
more carefully the little ravine or gully in which 
we are at work. I wish here to disclaim all pre- 
tension to geological knowledge. At the time I 
was at Moed I did not know even that the first 
thing to be noted was the dip of a stratum like this ; 

* " Christian Aspects of Faith and Duty," by the Rev. J. J. Tayler, 
p. 193. (2nd edition.) 

" Should God again, 
As once in Gibeon, interrupt the race 
Of the undeviating and punctual sun, 
How would the world admire ! but speaks it less 
An agency divine, to make him know 
His moment when to sink and when to rise, 
Age after age, than to arrest his course ? 
All we behold is miracle." Cowpek. 



BEAUTY OF THE FOSSILS. 209 

but I have ever had a keen relish for everything 
that was beautiful or curious in nature, and after 
my first visit hither I was impelled to come again 
simply by the extreme beauty of the fossils, as they 
appeared ,to my untutored eyes, and by a desire to 
take home the best I could find and place them 
where they would be better understood and more 
justly appreciated than they could be by myself. 
There was something striking to the imagination 
in finding not merely the impress where the leaf 
had been, nor even the leaf itself turned into some- 
thing like the rock in which it was imbedded, but, 
to all appearance, the actual leaf itself, with every 
fibre and reticulation in its structure preserved as 
distinct and clear as when it grew, a living, or- 
ganised structure. . Many of the specimens were of 
a rich green hue and of a velvety surface, which 
made it difficult to remember that it was not the 
actual vegetable structure that we saw before us. 
Others were of a lustrous golden appearance, that 
would certainly have rendered it impossible to con- 
vince the good people of Sixt that we had not begun 
to work the gold mine they were afraid I had 
found. Then, again, there is no class of plants 
which seem to me to possess half the beauty of the 
fern-tribe, and it was an additional attraction to me 

p 



210 DISPOSAL OP THE FOSSILS. 



. 11 

to get this peep, at first hand, as it were, into the 
fern growth of an extinct period. 

I went, therefore, as a simple lover of nature, 
having the time and the means to explore for myself 
a mine of hidden beauties, which it required no 
scientific or geological knowledge to enjoy and to be 
thankful for ; and I entreat the reader to accept the 
present chapter as an attempt to portray the sort of 
life these expeditions involve, and the amusing inci- 
dents with which they abound, and perhaps to per- 
suade him also to visit Moed ; and not as intended or 
expected to give any information as to the scientific 
character or geological history of the fossils which 
gave me so much pleasure. I brought a great 
number home, and at once offered to the authorities 
of the British Museum the first choice out of all my 
specimens. There was but one, which was remark- 
able for the number and variety of plants it con- 
tained, that I reserved for myself. It was with 
somewhat of a sorrowful feeling, I must confess it, 
that I found Mr. Woodward, the accomplished 
geologist whom they sent to look at them, pick out 
every single thing that I had set my heart upon 
keeping. He selected eighty specimens, and amongst 
them I certainly resigned every one that I had 
taken a particular fancy to. However, I thought 



THE FOSSIL BED. 



211 



I bad no business to keep for tbe gratification of 
my unlearned taste wbat might be put to a better 
use elsewhere, and I let them go without a murmur. 
I gave the next choice to my Alma Mater, Univer- 
sity College, London ; and Professor Morris, who 
has made this class of fossil plants his peculiar 
study,, picked out two hundred more, which are 
now in the museum of the college. Professor 
Morris confirmed my impression of their singular 
beauty and perfectness, and told me he thought he 
could detect in some of them what was of ex- 
tremely rare occurrence, distinct traces of the cel- 
lular structure preserved in the fossil leaf. 

The fossil bed lay in a little ravine or gully, and 
consisted of a band of dark, schistaceous, slaty stone, 
varying from four or five to twenty or thirty feet in 
width, occupying a hollow between two beds of 
hard grey rock. The productive part of the band 
is about 300 feet from top to bottom; higher up, 
the grey stone closes in on either side, and the band 
nearly disappears, while lower down also it dwindles 
to very small dimensions, and is apparently quite 
unproductive. A few feet to the east I found a 
second band of slaty schist of less extent than the 
first; and farther still to the right another little 
watercourse descends nearly at right angles to the 



212 



A MINE SPRUNG. 



first, and its bed is of a similar substance. The 
second band, which, unlike the first, seems thrust 
up out of the grey stone instead of being overlapped 
by it, is also rich in fossil remains, principally, as we 
thought, ferns, but we had little time to investigate ; 
and the third showed indications of vegetable fossils 
being not far off, but we had no time to find out 
exactly where. 

All this time Bellin is at work at his mine, and 
when I have finished my rough sketch he is just 
ready to spring it. The operation is most suc- 
cessful, and detaches, amongst others, one magnifi- 
cent slab, upwards of two feet long and full of 
beautiful remains, which is now in the British Mu- 
seum. We begin eagerly to split up some of the 
other fragments, and find many new plants which 
we have not seen before. Amongst them appears the 
corner of something like a great gentian leaf. With 
infinite pains and anxiety (I could not help thinking 
more than once of Mrs. Todgers's remark to Mr. 
Pecksniff about the solicitudes of gravy), I chipped 
off all the superincumbent stratum and disclosed 
the entire specimen, eight inches long, and singu- 
larly perfect in all its details. 

It is useless for me to attempt to describe all the 
beautiful leaves and plants we exhumed. The prin- 



THE FOSSILS. 



213 



cipal part of them were ferns, of which we found at 
least seven or eight distinct kinds ; one of them so 
like our own Osmunda regalis, that it is difficult even 
now to believe what I am told, that it belongs to 
an extinct species ; but we also found leaves like 
plantain leaves, petals like those of the most delicate 
and rao-o;ed pinks, blades of grass of several varieties, 
jointed stems decked with pointed fringes at each 
joint, just like our English mares' tails, slender 
whorls of bracts and stem-leaves which might 
almost be taken for flowers, and every here and 
there a lar^e flattened branch of something like a 
bamboo, and what we took for the debris of conife- 
rous trees. At every minute we seemed to find 
something either new or more beautiful than before. 
They have kept their colours and their fine mark- 
ings well, and even now, when I turn to some that 
are at hand — with hopes and prospects so dashed 
and changed that I hardly know myself — the old 
enthusiasm returns, I feel the undying beauty of 
Nature, whether on her grandest or her minutest 
scale, whether she speaks to us of to-day or of ages 
long swept into the abyss of the past, and I could 
wish myself back again by the little watercourse of 
Moed, doing stone-chipper's work under the scorch- 
ing noonday sun. 

P 3 



214 



THE DIOZA. 



We worked with right good will till one o'clock,, 
when the time of day warned us, no less emphatically 
than our famishing insides, that we must dine, as we 
had a long afternoon's walk before us. We were all 
most reluctant to quit this interesting scene. Old 
Bellin, toiling for his few francs a day, was, if any- 
thing, the most excited of the party ; but we were 
not provisioned for another night. So we put care- 
fully aside on the turf all the best specimens for 
which we meant to send ; and the few broken ones 
which contained something rare that we must have, 
we tied together and wrapped tenderly in paper ; 
and then at length addressed ourselves to our 
homeward journey. Starting at half-past two, we 
descended the slopes of turf so rapidly, that by a 
quarter past three we had reached the Dioza. We 
did not go a mile or two round to take advantage of 
the only bridge across it, but sought and found a 
place where we could attain the opposite side by 
jumping from stone to stone. 

This bank of the Dioza is excessively steep, 
and we fight our way up through sowthistles six 
feet high, and bracken nearly as tall, dally amidst 
the seductive charms of thousands of raspberry- 
bushes teeming with ripe and luscious fruit, and 
do not tear ourselves away till we are reminded 



ASCENT FROM THE DIOZA. 



215 



by the already lengthening shadows that the sun 
sets early enough when the middle of September 
is past, and that we shall probably ha,ve to descend 
from Planpraz in the dark. The chalets of Arvelais, 
a little below the level of Moed, are reached about 
half past four o'clock ; and here, as Balmat and 
Bellin are heavily laden, and wish to stay awhile 
and drink some milk, I leave them, and wander 
gently on towards the wild gap in the chain of 
the Breven, through which I have once passed 
before. 

The common track (for a faint track has been worn 
even here by the feet of the shepherds and cow- 
herds) lies on the bare mountain side, exposed to 
the full power of the evening sun ; but before long 
I hear the murmur of water, and find, a short dis- 
tance out of the path, a ravine between the rocks, 
down which trickles a charming little stream of 
limpid water, breaking into a series of miniature 
cascades, with a clear little pool at the foot of each, 
every pebble at the bottom distinctly seen, though 
it be through several feet of water. The sides of 
the channel are overgrown with the richest tapestry 
of dark green moss I ever saw ; and as I mount in 
the very bed of the stream, the trickling sound is 
so pleasant, and the shade so cool and refreshing, 
p i 



216 



THE GAP IN THE BREVEIn. 



that I congratulate myself heartily on having found 
a line of ascent so much more beautiful and attractive 
than that I had taken before. These dark pools 
seem to be the death-places of many a grasshopper. 
They jump merrily from the sides and tumble into 
the cold water, get benumbed, and cannot extricate 
themselves. I saved five from a watery grave in 
one little pool alone. By and by, my ravine, like 
all things pleasant or painful, came to an end, and 
emerging into the full sunlight, I felt how much I 
had gained by the judicious choice of my path. The 
rest of the ascent is sufficiently toilsome, and on a 
snow-bed, near the top, we were very glad to stop 
and make some lemonade. I took advantage of the 
halt to make my toilette also, and washed, shaved, 
brushed my hair, and changed my poor old flannels, 
now hopelessly (i abimes " by the rough work at 
Moed, for a pair of less way-worn greys. 

It was nearly six o'clock when we reached the 
gap at the top of the ridge by which it is crossed. 
Whenever the mule-path, now contemplated between 
the Col d'Anterne and Chamouni, by way of the 
Breven, shall be completed, this passage will, if I 
am not much mistaken, be looked upon as one of the 
great attractions of the excursion. The view is, to 
my taste, much finer than that from the summit above 



ARRIVAL AT CHAMOUNI. 



217 



the Cheminee. You have the bold rocks of the 
Breven on either hand, and Mont Blanc and the 
valley are framed as it were in a setting of broken 
crag. There is no other place I know from which 
so fine or so just a view of the Aiguille Verte can 
be obtained. You see the whole, or nearly the 
whole, of its western flank, and are able to appre- 
ciate its vast proportions. The Aiguille du Dru, 
which from most places near Chamouni seems close 
to it, and as high as, or higher than, the Aiguille 
Yerte, here shrinks into its proper place and size. 
It appears, as it is in fact, separated from the Yerte 
by a vast gap, and its loftier neighbour raises its 
glacier-crowned head some thousands of feet above 
it. Again we had a magnificent sunset ; the rosy 
tints were just fading away as we descended upon 
Planpraz, and long before we reached Chamouni 
night had set in and the stars were shining brightly. 
I found I had quite forgotten my early dinner, and 
after a toilette supplementary to that of the snow- 
bed near the top of the Breven, was quite ready for 
the evening table d'hote. 



1? 




- ■ v. <" ' ^ 



SOME EXCURSIONS 

AMONG 

THE GEEAT GLACIERS 



CHAP. VIII. 



" The most alluring clouds that mount the sky- 
Owe to a troubled element their forms." 

Wordsworth. 

" We climbed the mountain's height ; — 
A storm came on, and we could see 
Xo object higher than my knee. 

'Twas mist and snow, and storm and snow. 
No screen, no fence could we discover, 

And then the wind ! in sooth it was 
A wind full ten times ever." 

Ibid. 



BAD WEATHEE OX 110NT BLAXC. 

POSSIBLE DAGGERS OF BAD WEATHER. — BALMAT's PROPOSED EXPERI- 
MENT. — DR. TYND ALL'S ASSISTANCE. — OPPOSITION OF THE CHIEF 
GUTDE. — APPEAL TO THE LNTENDANT. — GORGEOUS SUNSET AT THE 
GRANDS MULETS. — THE CORRIDOR. — THE MIST COMES ON. — SUMMIT 
OF MONT BLANC. — BURYING THE THERMOMETER. — INTENSE COLD. — 
APPEARANCE OF OUR PARTY. — BALMAT's HANDS FROST-BITTEN. — 
HIS SUFFERINGS.— DESCENT OF THE MUR. — CONSIDERATION OF THE 
PORTERS. — SUDDEN CHANGE OF WEATHER. — STATE OF BALMAT's 
HANDS. — FATE OF THE THERMOMETER. 



Most of us have, at some time or other in our lives, 
experienced the miseries which exposure to wind 



222 



EFFECTS OF BAD WEATHER. 



and weather is capable of inflicting. To ride half 
the night in drenching rain, or in a steady drizzle 
on an " outside car/' in the wilds of Connemara, or 
over a pass amongst the English lakes, to buffet 
with the storm across a desolate Highland moor, to 
struggle in blinding snow through a strange and 
thinly inhabited country, are among the occasional 
necessities of most travellers — never free from 
abundant discomfort, not always from actual danger. 
Storm and wind have a specific effect of their own 
in lowering the vital powers and destroying the 
elements of resistance to their attacks. The case 
of the two gentlemen who perished on the well- 
marked path between King's House and Fort 
William, positively killed by bad weather on an 
August day*, though a striking, is far from being 
a solitary, instance of the death-dealing power 
which the elements can exert. But it is difficult, 
from the widest experience of bad weather at 
ordinary elevations, to form any conception of the 
terrible aspect it assumes on lofty mountains ; where 
the fury of the blast is increased tenfold, — where 
rain gives place to snow, — where, perhaps, the very 
mist is frozen, — where the soil and rock are replaced 



* In 1S47. See Quarterly Review, vol. ci. p. 299. 



balmat's pkoposed experiment. 223 

by substances incapable of absorbing and of radia- 
ting heat, so that the instant the sun's rays are 
withdrawn, every source of warmth is extinguished, 
and where the scanty produce of caloric in the 
body is more than exhausted in raising the thin and 
frosty air you breathe to a temperature which the 
lungs can endure. 

It has been my lot, among the many chances of 
an inveterate climber, to learn what bad weather 
means in a spot as lofty, and as remote from ex- 
ternal assistance, as any in which I am likely, in 
Europe, at all events, again to incur the anger of 
the elements, namely, on the summit of Mont 
Blanc ; and it was an experience such as the most 
reckless traveller would hardly soon forget, or will- 
ingly brave a second time. The circumstances of 
the expedition were peculiar. During the summer 
of 1857, Dr. Tyndall was engaged during some 
weeks in a series of researches on the Mer de Glace. 
Balmat mentioned to him that he thought of pla- 
cing some self-registering thermometers on and 
near the summit of Mont Blanc, for the purpose of 
ascertaining the minimum of external temperature 
attained in that elevated region, and the depth to 
which such cold penetrates beneath the surface of 
the ice. Circumstances prevented Balmat from 



224 



EXPEDITION TO THE JAKDIN. 



carrying out this experiment during the autumn of 
1857; and, before the next campaign, Dr. Tyndall, 
believing that the result would be a valuable addi- 
tion to our knowledge of the real phenomena and 
condition of the ice-world, procured from the 
Royal Society a small grant for the purpose of 
assisting so praiseworthy an undertaking. Proper 
thermometers were taken out from England ; and, 
about the beginning of September, Dr. Tyndall 
repaired to Chamouni and proposed to Balmat to 
make the ascent and plant the thermometers. 
Balmat was at the time engaged as my guide, and I 
gladly accepted Dr. TyndalPs welcome invitation to 
be of the party. The weather, however, broke up, 
and, for some days, it seemed hopeless to think of 
any long or difficult expedition ; and, despairing of 
Mont Blanc, we made a compromise by burying 
one thermometer in the ice and planting another 
beneath some rocks, above the summit of the 
Jardin. The depth of snow we encountered here 
appeared to afford satisfactory proof that it would 
be in vain to attempt Mont Blanc. The day, how- 
ever, was one of singular magnificence, and the 
following day proving equally fine, we could none 
of us resist a longing desire to be once more 
amongst the grandest scenes of the ice-world, and 



OPPOSITION OP THE CHIEF GUIDE. 225 

to gain that glorious summit which rose so tempt- 
ingly before our eyes. Balmat had another thermo- 
meter which, though not particularly suitable, would 
yet answer the purpose sufficiently well in default 
of a better. The expedition was therefore deter- 
mined upon, — Balmat to be at its head, as the pro- 
jector of the experiment, — Dr. Tyndall the scientific 
director, and prepared to make some interesting 
observations on other matters, — I to (( make myself 
generally useful " as far as I could. We were met, 
however, by a not altogether unexpected difficulty. 
The then chief guide, a man entirely devoted to the 
old regime, declared that without the regulation 
number of guides, which means the regulation ex- 
pense of about 25/. apiece, we should not go. We had 
each of us ample knowledge of Alpine climbing, had 
each of us ascended Mont Blanc before*, and were re- 
solved that nothing should induce us to submit to this 
enormous imposition. We appealed to the superior 
authorities, to the Syndic, and through him to Mon- 
sieur de Bergoens, the excellent and liberal Intend- 
ant of the province, and readily obtained from him an 

* In 1857, Dr. Tyndall had performed the rare, and not very 
cautious, feat of ascending with one guide only ; and had, a few 
weeks before the time of the present expedition, climbed alone to the 
summit of Monte Eosa ; in my judgment, however, a much less 
arduous undertaking than his ascent of Mont Blanc. 

Q 



226 



ICE- SCENERY OF MONT BLANC. 



official countenance for our proceedings, the result of 
which was that the chief guide's threats of prosecu- 
tions and proces-verbals were unheeded ; and, instead 
of our having any difficulty in procuring the porters 
we required, we might have had a hundred if we 
had wanted them. Precious time, however, — two 
or three days of glorious weather, — had been lost 
in these negotiations, and when we started it was 
not altogether without a misgiving for the morrow. 

The matchless grandeur of the scenery of Mont 
Blanc is neither generally known nor adequately 
appreciated: and, despite the great wasting of the 
glaciers, which was observable in the year 1858 in 
most parts of the Alps, the wonders of the ice-world 
of Mont Blanc were certainly greater than in the 
previous year. The difficulty of reaching the 
Grands Mulets was considerable, owing to the 
enormous magnitude of the crevasses beneath their 
base. One prodigious chasm stretched right across 
the Glacier de Taconnay, from the foot of the 
Grands Mulets to the summit of the Montagne de 
la Cote, and it was only after repeated trials and 
great delay that we found a practicable, though far 
from an easy passage. A wonderful but unpro- 
mising sunset closed the day, the sun sinking to 
rest amidst a chaos of gorgeous clouds, some piled 



GORGEOUS SUNSET. 



227 



and banked one upon another till they looked as 
solid as the rock on which we lay, others whirled in 
wild eddies by the rising west wind, or torn to rags 
and scattered piecemeal in space by some furious 
and transient blast, others floating calmly in loftier 
regions, looking down in quiet unconcern on the 
seething masses below, all lighted up in a thousand 
different tints by the glowing rays of the descending 
luminary: some crimson, some gold, some dark 
violet, some purple, some of the richest mixture of 
yellow and brown, some but faintly blushing, some 
scarcely differing in hue from the pale cold blue of 
the zenith sky, some even tinged with green. I 
thought of Heber's beautiful lines : — 

" I praised the sun, whose chariot rolled 
On wheels of amber and of gold ;" 

when lo ! the central mass, behind which the sun 
was now nearly hidden, suddenly grew semitrans- 
parent, presenting an immeasurable depth of amber 
mist, itself apparently one vast reservoir of illumi- 
nating power. Quick as thought, disclosing still 
vaster deeps of space behind, a kind of tunnel 
opened through its very heart, out of which shot 
across the clear space in front a bright cone of 
ruddy light, which turned its own amber channel to 



228 



THE COMET. 



a cylinder of melting gold, and lit up the dark 
forms of the mountains in the west with a strange 
unearthly glow. These gorgeous dioramas of celes- 
tial scenery seldom indicate settled weather ; and it 
was not without misgivings that I watched a sunset 
scene which has been without a parallel in my re- 
collection. The evening had not well closed in 
before a light fall of snow took place, followed by a 
storm of wind so furious that it seemed at times 
resolved to annihilate the little cabin which formed 
our shelter. The upper part of Mont Blanc was 
covered, through a great part of the night, with a 
dark misty cap, which experience taught us was 
but the whirlwind of dry snow that was eddying 
about the summit. 

However, about one o'clock things looked better, 
the stars began to shine, and by half-past one we 
had started on our icy pilgrimage. The comet, 
which Dr. Tyndall and I had discovered the night 
before at the same instant, — I, certainly without 
having heard of it before, — was now blazing over 
the Col de Balme, and a considerable portion of the 
heaven was clear. The sky looked more and more 
promising as the night wore on ; and when, half an 
hour before sunrise, we were on the Grand Plateau, 
and the air was cold and crisp and dry, we con- 



A CHANGE OF PROSPECT. 229 

gratulated each other on the fair prospect of glorious 
weather at the top. A very great difficulty suc- 
cessfully overcome on the ascent of the Corridor 
raised our enthusiasm still higher ; and it was only 
when we reached the summit of the Corridor, and 
exchanged the still and dry atmosphere of the 
northern side for a cold, misty, driving wind, 
charged with the moisture of a million clouds that 
lay in dense immovable masses over the whole sea 
of mountains to the south, through which but three 
solitary peaks — Monte Rosa, the Grand Combin, 
and the Matterhorn — were able to pierce, that we 
gave up our exalted hopes, and felt that we should 
be fortunate if we reached the summit without 
accident. 

There was no time to be lost : we were already 
somewhat wearied with the deep snow, and a most 
fatiguing ascent still lay before us ; so we stayed 
only to effect a more equitable division among our 
party of our one bottle of champagne than was 
practicable so long as the cork remained undrawn, 
and addressed ourselves seriously to the Mur de la 
Cote. We had not gone many hundred yards 
before a light drift of transparent mist, scarce 
enough to dim the rays of the sun, came dancing 
by us. It was but the precursor of manv others 

Q 3 



230 



AEEIVAL ON THE SUMMIT. 



and, from the time we reached the top of the Mur, 
we never saw the summit till we stood upon it. 
Still it was so clear upon the Chamouni side, the 
mist so often grew lighter and thinner, and the 
wind was so strong, that we could not help hoping 
it might partially, at any rate, clear off. When we 
were about half-way up the Calotte we caught our 
last glimpse of Chamouni, and our friends below 
had their last peep at us. We saw no sight or sign 
of the living; world again till some four hours after- 
wards, when we emerged once more into sunshine 
and daylight on the Grand Plateau. 

And now, as we fought our way up the steep 
Calotte, with beating hearts and panting lungs, the 
boiling mist eddied round us in denser and denser 
folds, the struggling beams of the watery sun grew 
fainter and fainter, the drifts of powdery snow, 
gathered by the south wind from the surface of the 
glacier, were swept more swiftly past us, though we 
purposely kept as much to the north and as far from 
the actual ridge as possible, for the sake of all the 
little shelter we could get. Suddenly, about half 
past nine o'clock, we found the steep incline at an 
end, and were welcomed by a sharp and eager blast 
as we stood once again on the summit of Mont 
Blanc. A site for the thermometer was soon se- 



THE BOSSE DE DKOMEDAIRE. 231 

lected, and, with the ice-hatchets and a long iron 
bar we had brought to mark the spot, our three 
stout young porters set vigorously to work to dig 
a hole three or four feet deep, — a cell in which the 
instrument should be immured till the genial suns 
of the next July or August should enable us, if the 
elements should spare it, to release the captive and 
extort the secrets of the icy prison-house. A mack- 
intosh was thrown down on the snow, and a shelter 
against the wind constructed by stretching a plaid 
over some alpenstocks, where, two feet from the 
summit, Dr. Tynclall might boil some water and 
ascertain its temperature. A momentary lift in the 
fog was taken advantage of by Balmat and myself 
to creep some distance along the narrow ridge which 
forms the summit, to investigate the possibility of 
an ascent from the Grand Plateau by the Bosse cle 
Dromedaire, a favourite project with Alpine ex- 
plorers which at that time remained yet to be 
achieved. While we did so, the thick mist swooped 
down again upon us, and we seemed indeed alone, 
for we could neither see nor hear our companions. 

Digging holes in the ice is not nearly so easy a 
task as it might be thought, and Balmat joined the 
efforts of his vigorous arm and determined Avill to 
those of our porters, who were all young men — from 

q 4 



232 



INTENSE COLD. 



twenty to three and twenty years of age — and most 
of whom were making their first ascent. After 
watching Dr. Tyndall's fruitless efforts to get his 
lamp to light, in which most of our matches were 
already consumed, some of the drifting snow having 
got into the wick, I flung myself on a corner of his 
mackintosh, and endeavoured to reconcile myself to 
the misery of our situation. The thermometer, 
sheltered from the wind, stood at— 12*3° Centigrade, 
or twenty-two degrees of Fahrenheit below the 
freezing point. What it was in the wind I had not 
the energy to determine, but it must have been con- 
siderably lower. Our party presented an odd aspect. 
Every man had tied his handkerchief over his hat to 
keep his ears from freezing ; and Balmat and myself 
had linen masks covering the whole of the face below 
the eyes except the mouth and nostrils. Dr. Tyn- 
dall was more efficiently protected by a most useful 
beard and moustache. We were all blue in the face, 
and every hair was converted into a fine thread of 
ice. 

It is commonly supposed that the summit of Mont 
Blanc presents a face of tremendous precipices to- 
wards the south. The extensive prevalence of this 
notion amongst even well-informed men, is a striking 
proof of what I have elsewhere ventured to assert, 



ASPECT OF OUR PARTY. 



233 



that, despite the number of ascents, and the mul- 
titude of accounts of them that have been given to 
the world, the exact character of the scenery and 
the topography of the mountain have been but im- 
perfectly made known. Instead of the ridge of 
Mont Blanc ending abruptly in the precipices which 
overhang the Allee Blanche, it is separated from 
them by a broad stretch of undulating glacier, not less 
than a quarter of a mile wide. This was not an 
unimportant item in the forces arrayed against us ; 
for, from the whole area of this snow-field, the dry 
and frozen snow on the surface was hurled in clouds 
against the summit, adding greatly to our difficulties 
and discomforts. At last, when we had endured 
for nearly a whole hour the combined attack of wind 
and mist and snow-drift, I began to get uneasy as 
to consequences. My hands and feet were almost 
without feeling, and one of Dr. Tyndall's feet was 
quite senseless ; and on getting up from the snow, 
where a bursting headache had made me glad to lie as 
still as I could, I was so alarmed at the aspect of 
our party, that I called Dr. Tyndall's attention to 
it; and, abandoning all further attempts to boil 
water, we resolved instantly to depart. Our men 
looked like animated corpses ; the livid hue of their 
faces had deepened almost into black ; they were 



234 



ASPECT OF OUR PARTY. 



shrivelled and shrunk, and their features wore an 
expression of suffering and anxiety. Every hair, 
not only on our faces, but on the cloth or flannel of 
our coats, gaiters, or plaids, was an icicle. Dr. 
Tyndall's beard and moustache were white, scarcely 
a vestige of their proper colour being observable. 
He told me my eyelashes even were all coated with 
ice. The wind was howling round us, as if in an 
unholy triumph over our wretchedness. Balmat, I 
thought, looked particularly ill ; • but, with inde- 
fatigable zeal, he was still busy trampling down the 
snow into the hole where the thermometer now lay 
nearly four feet below the surface. The iron bar was 
sunk seven feet deep, leaving about three feet above 
the ice to guide those who might seek it the next 
autumn to the spot. I asked the men some questions, 
but every one seemed unwilling to open his mouth, 
and answered only with a gesture. " Let us be off at 
once," I exclaimed, ee or we shall have some serious 
accident." 

The words were hardly out of my mouth when 
Balmat came up to me and said quietly, " Je 
crains beaucoup que les mains me sont gelees," and 
on inquiry I then learned, for the first time, that an 
iron ladle, which I had provided for the purpose, 
had been forgotten at the Grands Mulcts, and that 



balmat's hands frozen. 



235 



he had actually scooped out the ice and snow from 
the hole with his hands ! No wonder that a single 
pair of woollen gloves were not stout enough to 
resist the protracted action of such fearful cold. We 
gathered our traps together with all the haste we 
could, and in two minutes were out of sight of the 
summit, hurrying down the trackless waste of ice 
which forms the Calotte. We could not see thirty 
yards before us, and every trace of our ascending 
footsteps was completely obliterated ; but, guided 
by the unerring sagacity of Balmat, we had no fear 
of losing the direction, even in that dreary mist. 
We had not gone many hundred yards, however, 
before Balmat again turned to me and said, (( I feel 
a something. I think I shall look at my hands." 
And pulling off his gloves he found, to our horror, 
that, from the ends of the fingers to the knuckles, 
they were perfectly black. He said quietly, " There 
is no time to lose ; " and, casting down his traps, be- 
gan to rub his hands violently with the snow ; then, 
as no trace of sensation appeared, he began to get 
alarmed, and begged us to beat his hands. ec Frap- 
pez," he said, " frappez fortement ; n'ayez pas peur ; 
fortement, fortement ! " So Dr. Tyndall took one 
hand, and I the other ; and taking off our thick, 
heavy, fingerless gloves, used them to beat the black 



236 GREAT SUFFERINGS OF BALMAT. 



and senseless hands with all our migh't. In that 
thin atmosphere any exertion is severely felt, and at 
length I actually fell back upon the snow exhausted 
with the work, and was obliged to call upon one of our 
porters, all of whom seemed quite stupefied at the 
catastrophe, to relieve me. Then we rubbed him 
with brandy and gave him some rich cordial — a sort 
of liqueur that Dr. Tyndall had in his flask. All 
the while we were standing in the driving mist and 
pitiless wind, not a quarter of a mile from the sum- 
mit of Mont Blanc. 

At last, after about half an hour's incessant and 
violent labour, sensation began to return. I have 
witnessed some forms of acute suffering in my 
time, but such an exhibition of human agony I 
have never beheld, and I devoutly trust I never 
may again. He was at times quite unable to 
speak, and kept rubbing his hands in the snow and 
stamping about in a kind of frantic way, his qui- 
vering lips, bent brow, and dilated nostrils alone 
visible beneath the mask, and telling us what he 
was suffering. Then he would exclaim passion- 
ately, " Helas! je souffre, je souffre." Then he would 
turn to us; and, with that generous devotion to 
others which marks a noble character, implore us 
not to expose ourselves on his account, and give us 



DESCENT OF THE MUR. 



237 



some directions as to the route. The painful excite- 
ment of the scene may be more easily imagined than 
described, and it was increased by our utter inability 
to do anything to help him. Every now and then 
he bit one or other of his fingers ; and finding that, 
notwithstanding the torture which the rest caused him, 
these were still senseless, set to work again with re- 
doubled vehemence to rub and beat the hand. 

No less than three quarters of an hour were spent 
in this dreadful way, when he said it was not safe 
for us to stay longer, and we must move on. The 
porters took up the things he had dropped, and I 
carried his alpenstock, so that both hands were free 
to continue the rubbing, which he did with great 
energy. The descent of the Mur de la Cote was 
anxious work ; for the mist was thick and the wind 
furious ; and some of the loose snow, which had 
helped us greatly in the ascent, had been swept off, 
leaving us the hard and glassy ice beneath, on which 
to make our slippery way. However, it was safely 
accomplished; and a short distance down the Cor- 
ridor we got out of the worst of the wind and the 
snow-drift, and found our foot-prints showing faintly 
on the otherwise trackless surface. It was at the 
top of the Corridor that I felt more than anywhere 
else the bewildering effect of the mist and the drift. 



238 EXCELLENT CONDUCT OF THE PORTERS. 



There is a wide, undulating snow-field, of very gentle 
inclination, and little to indicate the proper direction 
to be taken, and I saw how very easy it would be to 
go Avrong. Our foot-prints once regained, we had of 
course no difficulty about the route. One tremendous 
chasm had to be passed on the middle of the Cor- 
ridor, approached by a descent of thirty or forty 
feet down a bank of ice, whose inclination could 
not be less than 60°.* 

It was touching to observe that Balmat was not 
one whit less thoughtful for the safety and comfort 
of every one else than when he was in the height 
of health and personal enjoyment. One of the por- 
ters, a young man named Edouard Bellin — who, if 
he lives, will be one of the most daring guides of 
Chamouni — could hardly keep the tears out of his 
eyes as he spoke to me of " Monsieur Balmat," 
whom he said he loved as much as his own father. 
Nor was it less touching to observe the eager anxiety 
of all these young men to spare him every sort of 
trouble or fatigue. From the Grands Mulets a 

* I am perfectly aware how much steeper than is generally 
imagined a slope of 60° is ; but the inclination of the Mur de la 
Cote is nearly 45°, and this was far steeper than the Mur. I re- 
member that in places, without leaning back, I planted my hand in 
the snow behind me to keep myself from slipping, and that the feet 
of the person who followed me were just above my head. 



SUDDEN CHANGE OF CLIMATE. 



239 



great deal of baggage had to be carried, and our 
porters were over-weighted, but not one ounce would 
they let Balmat carry, and not one word of com- 
plaint or remark did we hear, at any time during the 
day, at the really severe labour imposed upon them. 
One remarkably handsome and intelligent young 
man, Joseph Favret, the son of the Syndic, not only 
carried an immense load, but afterwards encumbered 
himself with a heavy ladder we had left at the widest 
crevasse of the Glacier de Taconnay, and carried it 
a great distance to facilitate the descent of his com- 
rades. 

While we were descending the lower part of the 
Corridor it began to snow, and we made up our 
minds for bad weather. A very few minutes later, 
however, on reaching the level of the Grand Plateau, 
we experienced one of those marvellous, though not 
uncommon, vicissitudes of weather so characteristic 
of a mountain climate, and passed suddenly from an 
arctic to an almost tropical temperature. Mist and 
storm had passed away, as if by magic ; and though 
the thick vapours were still circling round the higher 
parts of the mountain, a bright sun was shining upon 
us out of a blue and cloudless sky, and the broiling 
rays poured down upon our heads were shot back 
from the dazzling snow with such fierceness that the 



240 



THE FROZEN HANDS. 



heat was almost unendurable. We learned after- 
wards that, from below, the Grand Plateau and the 
lower half of the Corridor had been visible most of 
the day ; and persons unfamiliar with the climate 
of the higher Alps, had supposed it impossible that 
the light vapour they had seen hovering over the 
summit could cause us any serious inconvenience. 
Goldsmith's well-known simile is as destitute of 
physical truth as it is full of poetical beauty : — 

" As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, 
Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm; 
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, 
Eternal sunshine settles on its head." 

We had not done with bad weather : when we 
left the Grands Mulets, a little before three o'clock, 
it was in a thick fall of snow, and it is not easy to 
imagine a more desolate and cheerless prospect than 
that of the cold dead white glacier and the naked 
rocks, backed by the falling snow, which effectually 
concealed all the distant portions of the prospect. 

Poor Balmat's hands continued very painful all 
the way home, and sensation was but very imper- 
fectly re-established in several fingers. The third 
fino-er of each hand was the worst. The back of 

o 

each hand was swollen to a height of nearly an inch 
above the natural level, from the severe beating 



SUFFERINGS AFTER FROST-BITE. 



241 



which had been administered. It was many weeks 
before they were entirely cured, and eventually se- 
veral of the nails came off. He did not feel it 
prudent to accompany me over the Glacier du 
Tour, for which I started the next day, nor over the 
Col d'Erin, which I crossed three days later ; but 
exactly a week after our Mont Blanc expedition I 
had the gratification of standing by his side on the 
next highest summit in Europe, the wonderful peak 
of Monte Rosa — nor did he suffer from the expedi- 
tion. 

Balmat was an old and honoured friend of mine 
long before this adventure ; but, could anything 
have increased my regard for him, it would have 
been the manly fortitude with which he bore suf- 
fering about as severe as any the human frame can 
undergo, and the generous and affectionate care with 
which, in the midst of it all, he was constantly 
ministering to the wants or comforts of the rest of 
the party, and displaying the most thoughtful and 
scrupulous attention to every precaution by which 
accident might be prevented or danger averted. 
He told us that the pain he suffered was without 
a parallel in his experience, and that it was the 
pricking sensation every one has felt when the 
circulation is re-established after the hands or feet 

R 



242 



DISINTERESTED CONDUCT. 



have been extremely cold, magnified a hundred* 
fold, and extending back through the arms and 
body till it seemed to centre in the heart. Nor was 
it for many hours that he could feel any kind of 
assurance that he would not lose some at least of 
his fingers. His first apprehension was, of course, 
that he might lose both hands. He had long had^ 
however, a great notion of the interest, in a scientific 
point of view, of the experiment for which the ex- 
pedition was undertaken ; and his first thought had 
been that he could bear the calamity the better, as 
it had been met with in the cause of science. With 
a rare and unostentatious disinterestedness he at 
once made light of the suffering, the moment he 
felt that danger was at an end, and resolutely de- 
clined to receive the slightest remuneration for his 
services. He had originally thought of making the 
experiment himself, he said, and should have carried 
it out at his own cost ; and, grateful as he was for 
the recognition by the Royal Society of its value, 
and to Dr. Tyndall for bringing it under their no- 
tice, he could not think of accepting anything for 
himself. The lecture-hall at Leeds rung with well- 
deserved applause when, shortly afterwards, at the 
meeting of the British Association, Dr. Tyndall re- 
counted to the first savans of Europe, to most of 



VIOLENCE OF THE ELEMENTS. 



243 



whom Auguste Balmat is personally known, the 
danger he had undergone and the courage and dis- 
interestedness he had displayed. 

The thermometer was never recovered. Dr. 
Tyndall reascended, but sought for it in vain, in 
1859, when he also placed at intervals in the ascent, 
and on the summit, a number of other thermo- 
meters. What will be their fate, it is impossible to 
predict with certainty ; but, from the account which 
was given of the manner of placing them at the 
meeting of the British Association at Aberdeen, in 
1859, I should doubt very much if the higher ones 
will ever be recovered. I do not mean to imply 
that they might have been better planted. The 
difficulty is an intrinsic one. The wind has a force 
in those elevated regions which it is difficult to 
conceive without experience. It is said that when 
Napoleon Bonaparte was in possession of Savoy, he 
directed an iron cross to be fixed on the summit of 
Mont Blanc, and that this was done with every care 
to insure its durability; but that within four and 
twenty hours a storm arose and swept away every 
vestige of it. I may mention a very remarkable 
circumstance which Balmat told me with respect to 
the thermometer buried above the Jardin. He 
found the iron bar which marked its place, the fol- 



244 THE CHIEF GUIDE'S PROCEEDINGS. 

lowing season, and the thermometer buried at its 
base ; the thermometer was broken, and therefore 
told little. The iron bar, which was as thick as 
a man's thumb, was bent nearly flat with the surface 
of the ice. That part of it which was buried in the 
ice was straight, although it was no longer perpen- 
dicular, but inclined forward at a considerable angle. 
It must have been the blows of the spring avalanches 
that bent the bar, and, considering the little surface 
of resistance it afforded for them to act upon, it 
gives a wonderful idea of the overwhelming velocity 
with which they glide down. The downward move- 
ment of the bar and the thermometer during the 
nine or ten months that they were buried was 
about 300 feet. 

The chief guide did his best to bring our party 
to justice. He sent a spy off after us who might 
bear witness that we were all safe on the " Chemin 
du Mont Blanc." This fellow overtook us not far 
from the Pierre l'Echelle, and we had some diffi- 
culty in restraining our young porters from inflicting 
a little wholesome chastisement upon him. After 
our return, our whole party of guides and porters 
were summoned before the juge de paix at St. 
Gervais. The summons was served on Balmat one 
Tuesday afternoon, I think, to appear on the fol- 



RETRIBUTION. 



245 



lowing Thursday. Balmat went off the next morn- 
ing to the Intendant at Bonneville, M. de Bergoens 
is not a man to be trifled with, and he considered it 
a piece of presumption on the part of the chief 
guide to institute this prosecution, after the In- 
tendant had sanctioned our proceedings. He ac- 
cordingly despatched the government advocate — I 
forget what he was called in those days — to St. 
Gervais to see that the judge was properly informed 
of all that had happened. That functionary tra- 
velled half the night to be at St. Gervais in time. 
The result was a great blow to the " party of ob- 
struction." The summonses were dismissed, and the 
chief guide was packed off with a {( flea in his ear." 
He was told that what was wanted for the well- 
being of Chamouni was " que les glaciers descende- 
raient un peu plus bas, et ecraseraient quelques uns 
de ces gens si ignorants, si retrogrades, afin que 
les autres pourraient marcher un peu mieux sans 
eux ! " Whether this piece of eloquence came from 
the seat of justice, or only from the representative of 
the government, I forget, but it gave great satisfac- 
tion to the " party of progress." Our porters walked 
back in procession, with flowers in their hats, to 
Chamouni, and as they entered the village they 
caught sight of the unhappy chief guide; they 

R 3 



246 



RETRIBUTION. 



pounced upon him, carried him to a neighbouring 
wine-shop, and inflicted upon him the ignominious 
punishment of making him hopelessly drunk, in 
which state they carried him through the streets in 
triumph. 



247 



CHAP. IX. 

" Far above, 
Where mortal footstep ne'er may hope to rove, 
Bare cliffs of rock, whose fixt, inherent 'dyes 
Rival the tints that float o'er summer skies ; 
And the pure, glittering snow-realm, not so high, 
That seems a part of heaven's eternity." 

Mrs. Hemans. 



THE COL D'ERIN. 

THE GLACIER DU TOUR. — SION. — VAL D'ERIN. — CURIOUS PYRAMIDAL 
FORMATIONS. — EVOLENA. — UNPROMISING PROSPECTS. — A WALK IN 
THE DARK. — GLACIER DE FERPECLE. — ADVANCE OF THE GLACIER. — 
DIRT-BANDS. — CHALETS D'ABRICOLLA. — DANGEROUS PASSAGE. — 
THE MOTTA ROTTA. — THE COL. — STRIKING VIEW OF THE MATTER- 
HORN. — MEASUREMENTS OF HEIGHT PASSING A BERGSCHRUND. — 

THE STOCKHI. — GLACIER OF ZMUTT. — REMARKABLE SOUNDS. — 
BEAUTIFUL DESCENT TO ZERMATT. 

The day after the expedition recorded in the last 
chapter, my wife and I held council as to our next 
step. We had had no idea of moving on the very 
day after my ascent of Mont Blanc, but we were 
anxious to visit Monte Rosa, and we had been so 

R 4 



248 



ARRANGEMENTS. 



delayed by the uncertain state of the weather that 
there was no time to lose, and after duly weighing 
pros and cons we determined to proceed at once. 
The weather was magnificent, just fit for " grandes 
courses," and my friend H. and myself were just in 
condition for them also, and it seemed to us all a 
pity that we should neglect so fair an opportunity 
for a grand excursion, by following the path I for 
one knew so well across the Tete Noire and the 
Forclaz. Balmat was quite ready to go forward, 
despite his accident, though it was not prudent for 
him to expose his injured hands again, just at pre- 
sent, to the glare of the sun reflected by the spotless 
glaciers, and he therefore must take the common- 
place route if he went at all. My wife declared 
herself perfectly at ease under his care, besides 
which, a very dear and honoured friend of mine, 
the Vice-President of Queen's College, Cork, was 
going in the same direction with ourselves and 
kindly offered to take charge of her ; so it was 
settled that she should stay at Chamouni till the 
following day, the 15th September, while H. and I 
should move up to the Col de Balme, and that on 
the evening of the 16th we should all rendezvous at 
Martigny, they by way of the Tete Noire, H. and I 
by the glaciers du Tour and d'Orny. 



FANTASTIC SCENE. 



249 



Our arrangements answered perfectly ; the weather 
was propitious, each party had a delightful excur- 
sion, and each had a fund of pleasant anecdote for 
the other when we happily met, safe and sound 5 
and nearly at the expected hour, at Martigny. Our 
expedition had been most successful. We had seen 
some phases of the ice-world new even to us who 
were not inexperienced ice-men. In particular we 
had descended in one place into the bosom of a 
crevasse, and had gazed upon a scene of fairy mag- 
nificence, of which it is difficult to give the most 
inadequate notion. We had found an arch of snow 
springing from the sides of the crevasse and meeting 
overhead, stretching away in either direction till it 
was lost in the mere obscurity of distance. As far 
as we could see on either hand, the translucent 
roof was hung with icicles two or three feet m 
length as thick together, as they could be planted, 
some hanging perpendicularly ; others, where the 
block of half-ice-half-snow from which they were 
formed had sunk and altered its plane, inclining in 
one direction or the other, and sometimes actually 
interlacing with contiguous groups, while here and 
there large clusters of them had fallen down and 
choked the crevasse with a bristling mass of debris. 

In another part of the glacier we thread our way 



250 



A PERILOUS BRIDGE. 



through a suspicious maze of holes which give a 
honeycombed appearance to the glaciers. Impelled 
by curiosity one of us, after we have passed safely 
over, returns, and creeping on his hands and knees 
to the brink of one of the pitfalls, looks through, 
and finds to his horror and amazement that we have 
actually crossed an arched roof of ice springing 
from the sides of a crevasse not less than twenty 
feet in width, and of a depth so great that the im- 
perfect light does not let him see to the bottom, and 
that at the spot on which he is kneeling — nearly 
the keystone of the arch— the cake of ice is less 
than a foot thick. An army might have been en- 
gulphed in it and no one been the wiser for it. We 
have also had the satisfaction ©f finding a new pas- 
sage from the glacier du Tour to the glacier de 
Trient, far easier than the one by which W. and R. 
and I had descended the year before, and which is 
described in the volume of the Alpine Club. * Our 
friends had had a no less interesting day in the 
beautiful Tete Noire, and a more cheerful party 
seldom sat down to do justice to a well-earned meal 

* " Peaks, Passes, and Glaciers," a series of Excursions by Mem- 
bers of the Alpine Club. Chap. i. " The Passage of the Fenetre 
de Salena from the Col de Balme to the Val Ferret, by the Glacier 
du Tour, the Glacier de Trient, and the Glacier de Salena." 



A COUNCIL. 



251 



than the one which assembled round our table that 
evening at Martigny. 

The next day we made but a short journey of it, 
taking carriage to Sion and stopping there. We all 
enjoyed the afternoon's rest, and again held a council 
of war, when it was determined that we should 
once more separate for a day and a half, that H. 
and I should avail ourselves of the still glorious 
weather to cross the Col d'Erin, which we had long 
been anxious to undertake, and that my wife should 
move on quietly to Visp, sleep there, and make her 
way the following day by the usual route to Zer- 
matt. We had brought with us, besides Balmat, 
another old friend, Francois Cachat, and stout young 
Edouard Bellin, who had accompanied us as porter 
over the Col du Tour and the Glacier d'Orny, had 
begged permission to go on with us, as he wished to 
see Monte Bosa and the neighbourhood. Balmat 
was very reluctant to forego a (e grande course," but 
either he or I must give it up, as I trusted the care 
of my wife to no one else ; so he went with Madame 
by the valleys, and the Col d'Erin party consisted 
of H., myself, Cachat, and Bellin. 

About half-past six the next morning we parted, 
H. and I. making across the plain of the Rhone for 
the valley which opens out of it to the south, just op- 



252 



HEAT OF THE VAL D'ERIN. 



posite to Sion, and the rest taking carriage for Visp. 
The walk up the Val d'Erin to Evolena is one of 
singular richness and luxuriant beauty, but the 
mountain ranges are very close on either hand and 
there is but little distant prospect. It should be 
traversed early in the day — Ave were much too late 
— for the heat is perfectly awful. The valley of St. 
Nicholas is hot enough on a close August day, but 
I have never felt anything elsewhere that came near 
to the sultriness of the Val d'Erin on this 17th of 
September. It was so great that our sense of the 
extreme beauty of the vegetation, and of the smiling 
character of the scenery, has been almost obliterated 
by the recollection of thirst and weariness ; and we 
arrived at Evolena quite tired down, though it was 
but about two o'clock when we reached it. 

I must not omit to mention one very singular fea- 
ture of the scenery in the lower part of the valley. 
The torrents have in many places cut away the soil 
in the most singular fashion, leaving great pyramidal 
wedges, varying in height perhaps from 40 or 50 to 
200 feet, or even more, standing edgeways towards 
the valley, with deep ravines between them. They 
often rise into sharp needle-like peaks, and on the 
tops of many of them are perched large bosses of 
turf, the remnants of the surface' of the mountain 



SINGULAR FORMATIONS. 



253 



before the intervening spaces were torn open by the 
water. The effect is most singular. From a dis- 
tance the bosses of turf look like masses of rock, 
and each pyramid so crowned seems a little Peter 
Botte mountain. We could not imagine how blocks 
of stone could be so lodged, but it was not till we 
were close to them that we discovered that the sup- 
posed rocks were bits of turf, and were able to 
fathom the mystery. 




PYRAMIDS OF EARTH IN TtiE VAL d'ERIN. 



254 THE NEW HOTEL AT EVOLENA. 



We had been led to suppose that we should find 
capital quarters at Evolena. A new hotel, it was 
said, was just finished, which would offer excellent 
accommodation to the wayfarer ; and on approaching 
the village, which stands in a little elevated plain 
strewn with boulders and debris, we had noticed a 
large and handsome building which we supposed 
must be the hostelry in question. On coming 
closer, however, we saw that it was only half 
finished, and we could not find a single person about 
it. The village seemed nearly empty, and our ap- 
pearance did not excite the least curiosity. After a 
great deal of difficulty the landlord was hunted up, 
but he said he had nothing ready and did not Ci re- 
ceive" at present, though next season he would 
have twenty beds disposable. He struck us as a 
man of sanguine temperament to build a large hotel 
in a place where not a score of travellers pass from 
one summer's end to another. We persuaded him 
to do his best for us, and a couple of beds were soon 
rigged up and looked comfortable enough. But we 
wanted something besides beds, for we had walked 
seven hours in a broiling sun, and our recollections 
of breakfast were very shadowy. Our host mani- 
fested a lordly indifference to our wants, shrugged 
his shoulders, and said he did not know what the 



SCANTY FAEE. 



255 



•village could furnish except black bread and the 
salted mutton of last year; not a very promising 
prospect for four hungry travellers. We were 
obliged to make the best of what we could get. 
Our host remembered at last that he had shot a 
partridge himself, and was keeping it for Sunday's 
dinner, and this he now generously abandoned to 
us. The cooking was as dilatory as the fare was 
scanty, and it was nearly five o'clock before we got 
our " dinner," as it was euphemistically termed. 
The salt mutton was so hard and so salt that it beat 
H. and myself, and we had to content ourselves 
with half a partridge apiece, and some soup which 
looked and tasted like diluted dish-water. We ate 
as much bread and cheese as we could, but there 
was only one small piece of anything but the black 
bread to be had ; and, to people who are not used to 
it, there is something exceedingly unpleasant in the 
sodden unwholesome taste of the black bread. 

The clouds had gathered in the afternoon, and 
before nightfall it was mizzling fast, and things 
looked very bad for the long pass of the Col d'Erin. 
However, we resolved to have everything ready, and 
as Cachat seemed more shy than we had expected 
of attempting to find the passage for ourselves, we 
engaged a peasant of this valley to take us to the 



256 



AN UNLUCKY EXCLAMATION. 



top of the pass whence we thought we surely could 
accomplish the descent by ourselves. Our next care 
was to secure something in the way of food to take 
with us. We had been solemnly assured that there 
were no fowls to be had ; but one unlucky wight was 
fool enough to crow, and finding that he belonged 
to our landlord, we put on moral pressure sufficient 
to make him, at all events, find his way into our 
bag, — and we soon heard the poor fellow's last 
scream as the sacrifice was being consummated. Our 
landlord did not so much mind, it appeared, parting 
with this particular bird, inasmuch as he was an aged 
cock, past being of much use in the farm-yard. The 
hens we could not prevail upon him to sell us at any 
price ; but he let us have a dozen eggs. 

These preparations made, we betook ourselves to 
bed, with only faint hopes of being able to push 
across the Col on the next day. I was determined 
to do it, if possible, for I did not want my wife to 
be left alone at Zermatt, perhaps in anxiety about 
us ; and I was much relieved when Cachat called 
us about half-past one on the 18th, and told us the 
weather had so far improved that he thought we 
might venture to start. Our beds were so much 
better than our fare had been that we were posi- 
tively reluctant to quit them, but we knew we had 



AN ASTUTE HOST. 



257 



a long day before us, and we were soon dressed, and 
found a meal, far better than our supper of last 
night, awaiting us ; for we had tolerable coffee, ex- 
cellent milk, butter, and honey, and some very sour 
whity-brown bread, warmed on one side and called 
toast. Our host was an astute man; for, when I 
asked what there was to pay, he answered, ten francs 
for the provisions we were to take with us — " the 
cock," he said, " the eggs and the wine, and " (com- 
prehensive phrase!) "tout cela," and for the rest, 
as we had been badly lodged, and he did not yet 
keep an inn, " a volonte." He had us in a cleft 
stick, for we did not like to chaffer with a man who 
had put himself to inconvenience to receive us ; and, 
supposing that our men had taken wine with them 
from here, we paid the ten francs without question or 
demur, and offered him fifteen francs for the night's 
accommodation and the food we had eaten, with 
which he seemed by no means content, and we made 
it up to eighteen francs. Alack ! by and by we 
found there was no wine in the knapsacks, save our 
own one bottle of champagne, brought from Sion, 
and that our ten francs had purchased nothing but 
an old and wiry rooster, a dozen hard-boiled eggs, 
and a small quantity of cheese and black bread ! I 
fancy our host will manage to make the few travel- 

s 



258 



A START BY NIGHT. 



lers lie gets pay for his expensive building, somehow 
or another. 

Having made the best we could of our black- 
bread breakfast, we filed off at half past two, by no 
means sorry to quit such very bad quarters, even 
though it would take us many an hour to reach any 
better. With the Evolena man, we were five in 
all. There was no moonlight, and at this time but 
very little starlight, and we had therefore to depend 
upon the light of a lantern, carried by our Evolena 
friend. The path for some distance beyond Evolena 
is excellent. It is only when it approaches the ha- 
bitations of man, and brings us to some group of 
chalets, that it becomes bad ; and then, in order to 
enable passengers to avoid the mud and filth which 
always accumulate about chalets, large blocks of 
stone are cast in the path, to raise the feet above the 
miry slough, and the footing is rough, broken, and 
uncertain. There is something very solemn in these 
midnight expeditions : a party of resolute men, armed 
with the engines of mountain warfare, stealing noise- 
lessly along through the hours of darkness, picking, 
or rather groping, their way through narrow pas- 
sages, by the side of mountain torrents, or across 
the upland pastures, as if to surprise the Spirit of 
the glaciers before he is up and abroad. The utter 



MIDNIGHT EXPEDITIONS. 259 

impossibility of judging of distances, rendered, if 
that could be, more hopeless still by the bright 
gleams of flickering light flung from the lantern 
across your path, and bewildering your eye — the dark 
forms of neighbouring mountains, apparently so close 
upon you that they may be touched — the brawling of 
the distant, though now unseen, torrent — the steady, 
quiet, determined pace of your party, all combine 
to produce an effect upon the imagination which one 
'would be sorry not to have experienced. Then, the 
deep silence of the sleeping hamlets through which 
you pass makes you feel as if you were amongst the 
habitations of the dead. Very often, you see some 
mysterious object towering through the darkness, 
and cannot tell what it is, till an accidental ray of 
light falls upon it, and shows it to be a chalet close 
at hand, while you have imagined it some distant 
wall of precipices. I remember once this night 
being fairly startled, a little way beyond the village 
of Hauderes ; I w T as walking steadily on, in front of 
the lantern, my eyes bent upon the ground to enable 
me to pick my way over the stones, when, looking 
up, I saw a great moving figure coming down directly 
upon me. It took me more than a moment to re- 
cognise my own shadow upon the side of a chalet 
which projected into the middle of our track. It is 
s 2 



260 



DAYBREAK. 



always much the most comfortable plan to go in 
front of the lantern. If it is before you, the con- 
stant endeavour to see the ground, in spite of the 
brilliant point of light just beyond it, is most fa- 
tiguing; whereas, by walking in front, you get a 
much more subdued and general light, and are freed 
from the embarrassing effect of a point of illumi- 
nation shining just into your eyes. 

It is surprising how long before daybreak there is 
some faint gleam of light shed over the face of the 
earth. The sun does not rise, at the time of the 
year of which I am speaking, till nearly six o'clock. 
Daylight would scarcely be acknowledged as even 
beginning before five, yet in this valley, which runs 
north and south, and from which therefore the earliest 
rays are blocked out, instead of its being enfiladed 
by them, I found it quite light enough to walk with- 
out the lantern at four o'clock, The moment you 
can do so, it is far more pleasant to dispense with 
artificial light, for the faintest general illumination 
is better than the partial and uncertain light thrown 
by a moving lantern, which intensifies actual shades 
and magnifies apparent lights, so as to distort the 
face of the ground, and throw the most wary of 
travellers olf his guard as to the real magnitude of 
obstacles in his path. Accordingly, I got well ahead 



PLANE-TREES. 



261 



of the lantern wherever I could, and by four o'clock 
found myself entirely independent of its aid. I could 
then get a good way on in front, and turning round 
could enjoy the picturesque appearance of the rest 
of our little party, dimly seen by the dancing light. 

Soon after passing Hauderes, I thought I per- 
ceived an unusual foliage on the trees, and gathering 
a leaf as I passed, was surprised to find, on the 
lantern coming up, that it belonged to a plane-tree. 
I remembered then that Professor Forbes mentions 
plane-trees as growing here. They appeared to me, 
as well as the darkness would let me judge, to be in 
great abundance, and to grow to a considerable size. 
The trunks of some of them must have been two 
feet in diameter. The barberry I could distinguish 
as flourishing freely, and in one place a bush, which 
had looked in the dark like something uncommon, 
turned out to be a wild rose-tree ; so that this part 
of the valley is not destitute of a beautiful growth 
of trees and underwood. 

We had all got well past the opening of a wide 
valley on our right, which leads to the Col de Collon, 
and by that passage to the Yal Biona and Aosta, 
and were steadily working our way up the left-hand 
valley, belonging to the stream of the Ferpecle 
glacier. The path is carried high above the stream, 

S 3 



262 



A DAKK ABYSS. 



and has to make some considerable detours to cross 
ravines which come down on the left, and contribute 
their quota to the great flood roaring in the dark 
depth below. In one place, which we reached just 
as the light was getting strong enough to make 
walking quite agreeable, the bed of the stream is 
contracted to a narrow gorge, through which the 
river foams and thunders far below ; the path is 
carried over some rocks just overhanging the gloomy 
abyss, and in the dark it would be easy enough to 
step over the edge into no uncertain destruction. 
At this point the foot of the glacier first came into 
sight, creeping down towards the valley, at no great 
distance from us, though how far exactly it was 
not yet light enough to discern. A little way 
further we crossed an immense mass of debris, 
which appeared to have come down from the rocks 
on the opposite side of the stream, and to have been 
scattered by the violence of the fall, to some height 
above us, along the gentler slopes on our left ; for 
on this side there was no appearance of any such 
disruption having taken place, and the only preci- 
pices from which rocks might have rolled lay too far 
back to have given rise to the phenomenon. 

It grew rapidly lighter as we crossed this stony 
waste 3 and a few minutes more brought us to two 



MONT MINE. 



263 



or three dirty chalets, where our Evolena friend left 
his lantern. It was now nearly five o'clock, and 
the tints of early dawn had made themselves unmis- 
takeably visible. The weather did not look bad. 
From the moment we started the north wind had 
been struggling for the mastery, and had in part 
succeeded. He had rolled back from time to time 
the curtain of clouds, and revealed the stars shining 
brightly from his own quarter of the heavens. Not 
being able to see much on the earth, I had been 
watching the sky keenly, and was much surprised, 
as early as half past four, to notice a delicate amber 
tint, a real piece of colour, steal over some of the 
eastern and southern clouds. It was transient, but 
I am certain I was not deceived. 

We now began to approach very near to the 
glacier, but we could as yet see little of the upper 
portion, over which our route lay. We saw a long 
dirty tongue of highly compressed glacier extending 
towards us, and over this a precipitous rock nearly 
in front of us, with some ice-precipices above it — 
the Motta Rotta — and to the right, a long serrated 
ridge, the Mont Mine, which divides the glacier into 
two portions, and runs far up into its basin. Further 
still to the right was a fine range of snowy peaks — 
the Aiguilles de la Za — portions of the western 

s 4 



264 ADVANCE OF THE GLACIER. 

boundary of the great Glacier of Ferpecle ; but of 
the mass of the glacier itself we saw little or no- 
thing. 

We soon found that the path lay, not over the 
glacier, but by its side, among a waste of boulders 
covered with moss, interspersed with the stumps of 
dead pines and with living larches, and ornamented 
with a strong undergrowth of rhododendron. For- 
merly, our Evolena man told us, the track lay on 
the moraine of the glacier; but in 1852 the glacier 
increased so much as to destroy the old path, and 
since then people have always passed higher up along 
the eastern bank — by a far pleasanter path, I should 
say, than over the moraine. I asked him if the 
glacier had diminished that year (1858). He said, a 
little perhaps ; but it does not seem to have ex- 
hibited the remarkable diminution that had been 
shown by every other glacier I had visited in the 
course of that journey. After passing for nearly an 
hour along what I have called the eastern bank of 
the glacier, but what is in reality to all appearance 
an ancient moraine, we had to take to a steep and 
lofty mountain covered with rough turf, and broken 
here and there into precipitous faces of rock, and to 
climb to a great height in order to gain the upper 
plateau of the glacier. In so doing we were re- 



THE GLACIEE OF FEKPECLE. 265 



warded by magnificent views of the glacier, and of 
the peaks and ranges round about it. 

The glacier of Ferpecle is one of the largest I 
have seen in Switzerland. It appears to me to be 
larger than the Fee, but it is certainly not so fine 
as that singularly interesting glacier. It is divided 
into two great branches by the chain of the Mont 
Mine, which extends nearly from the lower end of 
the ice-stream to the Tete Blanche, a point in the 
lofty range dividing the glacier ©f Ferpecle from 
that of Zmutt. The smaller arm is the eastern, up 
which we were to make our way. The larger, and 
probably the finer, is the western, enclosed between 
the chain of the Mont Mine on the east, and the 
more important chain of the Aiguilles de la Za and 
the Dent de Berauk on the west — that chain which 
is prolonged towards Hauderes, and along whose 
western flank the path to the Col de Collon is carried. 
The upper part, the neve portion, of this western 
arm is only partly seen, being hidden to a great 
extent by the dark serrated line of the Mont Mine ; 
but a fine ice-fall, in the nature of that of the Col 
du Geant, though neither so lofty nor so precipitous, 
is in full view. Beneath it, as beneath the ice-cataract 
of the Geant, the ice is very compact, and its surface 
wrinkled into numerous folds. Below these folds 



266 



THE DIRT-BANDS. 



the dirt-bancls begin. So many of them are double, 
or else they are separated from one another by so 
short an interval, that it is difficult to estimate their 
number with any precision ; but, counting them as 
accurately as I could, I numbered no less than 
forty-three. They begin by lying nearly straight 
across the glacier, and stretch out at length into 
elongated curves. The dip of the lower curves was 
beautifully marked against the steep side of the 
glacier, where they striped it like so many dark bars, 
each falling more forward than its predecessor; 
thus : — 




It struck me that there was a great deal to be 
learned from an attentive examination of the glacier 
of Ferpecle, especially with regard to the dirt-bands. 
My opportunities of observation were limited to the 
distant view I had from the bank, but I was unable 
to see any dirt-bands peculiar to the eastern branch. 



THE DIRT-BANDS. 



287 



They are first exhibited on the western branch, just 
below the ice-cascade. Lower down, however, they 
are strongly developed right across the glacier ; and 
the manner in which, as portrayed above, they run 
down the face of its eastern side and display a con- 
tinually increasing "frontal dip," is calculated 
strongly to impress the mind with the notion that 
they are connected, in some -way, with the veined 
structure. But unless the motion of the Glacier de 
Ferpecle be much slower than that of any great 
glacier whose motion has been measured, their close 
proximity to one another would seem almost fatal to 
the supposition that there is any connection between 
their intervals and the annual amount of motion of 
the glacier. But, as I have ventured elsewhere to 
remark *, it seems to me that we do not yet know 
the first facts necessary to be determined before we 
can construct a satisfactory theory of dirt-bands. 
" We do not know what is the contour of the glacier 
in early spring ; whether its ridges and hollows exist 
along its whole length, or only beneath some tre- 
mendous ice-fall ; whether the dirt-bands are constant 
in number, and are found at the same time of the 
year in the same part of the glacier. Indeed, we 



* National Keview for July 1859, p. 27. 



268 



THE MOTTA ROTTA. 



know very little about them except that they afford 
a graphic and lively illustration of the semi-fluid 
character, on the large scale, of glacier motion." 

One portion of the glacier, as I have mentioned, 
descends from the left, where the upper part is a 
wide basin enclosed between the precipices of a very 
lofty and pointed peak called the Dent Blanche on 
the left and the Mont Mine range on the right. 
The whole of this expanse, several miles across in 
its upper portions, is filled by the glacier. It is 
broken near the centre of the amphitheatre, by the 
fine precipitous mass of black rock I have mentioned 
before as the Motta Rotta, which is crowned by a 
lofty wall of ice, but upon whose steep face scarcely 
a snow-fleck rests. Beneath the Motta Kotta the 
glacier is much crevassed ; but once on a level with 
it, so far as we could judge, little was to be met 
with besides enormous fields of unbroken snow. 
We were not yet, however, on a level with the Motta 
Rotta, and it was not easy to say with certainty 
what might be the real nature of the fore-shortened 
landscape on which we were looking. 

The Col lies far away to the right, near to the 
extremity of the Mont Mine range, and it would 
certainly save a good hour or two if it were prac- 
ticable to pass to the right of the Mont Mine. But 



TIIE CHALETS d'ABRICOLLA. 269 



the passage of the Col d'Erin is not yet well known, 
and the few persons who have made it have all 
passed to the left, and we followed the general 
practice. Leaving two wretched huts, the Chalets 
d'Abricolla, where travellers have been wild enough 
to pass the night, which we had reached after an 
hour's climb from the moraine, we worked our way 
for upwards of another hour across one of the vastest 
collections of stony debris I have ever seen. We 
were now getting beneath the offshoots of the Dent 
Blanche, the chief contributors to this prodigious 
waste of dreary ruins, and small glaciers every now 
and then overhung our path most unpleasantly. I 
should call this portion of the passage dangerous. 
The huge accumulation of stones has been partly 
brought together by the water courses ; but every 
here and there you pass over portions which have 
a different aspect, and contain rocks of much greater 
size, containing a large intermixture of stones and 
boulders that have travelled from the loftiest 
heights. At such a spot, if you look up, you 
are sure to see the end of a dirty glacier peeping 
over the edge of the heap of debris, as if watching 
your progress. You will probably see also that 
it is charged with a number of huge stones, just 
tottering on its brink. If in the humour to dis- 



270 



THREATENING GLACIERS. 



pute your passage, it may cause you no small risk 
and alarm, if not a serious injury, by hurling one 
or two of them upon your head as you pass be- 
neath. We escaped such a salute, but had hardly 
passed when a very large boulder came leaping 
down across our track, bounding fifty and a hundred 
feet at a leap, as if to remind us that we were there 
on sufferance only. 

We came at length to a genuine lateral moraine, 
after climbing which for many minutes we arrived, 
just after seven o'clock, on the edge of the upper 
part of the Ferpecle Glacier. The weather was 
looking very bad again ; upon the chain of the 
Diablerets, to the north, it had been raining heavily 
for nearly an hour, and now the rain was falling fast 
upon the mountains bounding the Yal d'Erin on the 
west, and dense masses of mist were rolling up the 
valley before the north wind. The grand white 
peak and shaggy side of the Dent Blanche, which 
had been towering, apparently to an immeasurable 
height, upon our left, were already shrouded in mist, 
and only casual and occasional peeps could be had, 
in which the grandeur of the scene was, if possible, 
enhanced by the mysterious way in which peak and 
precipice, rock and snow, appeared and disappeared, 
not among terrestrial objects, but high above our 



CURIOUS ROCK. 



271 



heads amongst cloud and sky. We could still see 
the precipices of the Motta Rotta, which formed a 
useful landmark to direct our course. 

For the present, however, we did not much need 
a landmark, for some persons had made the passage 
two days before, and their track was well-marked 
from the place where we struck the glacier. After 
about twenty minutes' rest, and a meal of bread and 
cheese and champagne, we betook ourselves to the 
ice, and, following the footsteps of our predecessors, 
pushed straight towards the Motta Rotta. Having 
cut through one or two systems of formidable 
crevasses, transverse to the axes of converging 
wedges of glacier, we turned to the left and made 
for the precipices of the Dent Blanche. One of 
these, under which we had to pass, presented a 
quaint appearance. It was a black convex face of 
perpendicular rock, capped with a dome of snow, 
which reminded me of the rounded head of a shark 
rising out of the water to seize his prey. The re- 
semblance was enhanced by a boss of rock thrusting 
itself out through the snow, just where the shark's 
eye should be. 

The reason for our taking this course was soon 
visible; for it appeared that the portion of the 
glacier we were approaching is raised on a high 



272 



A MONOTONOUS SCENE. 



terrace of rock, and that it was only by gaining 
the extremity of the wall of crag on the left, where 
it begins and is of insignificant dimensions, that we 
could pass from the lower to the upper section of 
the glacier. Having done so, we could again take 
our proper direction, bearing to the right, and pro- 
ceed nearly in a straight line towards the Col, which 
lay far away, nearly south of the Motta Rotta, just 
below a small peak called the Tete Blanche, which 
is seen from some parts of the Val d'Erin, but 
not, if I remember right, from the ascent to the 
glacier. 

From this point we scarcely met with a single 
crevasse; we kept pretty high up on the glacier, 
skirting its south-eastern boundary, a long irregular 
line of snowy swells and domes rather than of 
peaks, and leaving the Dent Blanche on our left and 
behind us. For two hours there was scarcely any- 
thing to diversify the route or attract the attention. 
New snow had fallen the night before, and had all 
but obliterated the footprints of our predecessors, 
g o that the walking was very laborious. The glacier 
was seldom steep, except in one spot, just as we 
were coasting the upper edge of the Motta Rotta, 
where there were a few minutes of ascent worthy 
of Mont Blanc himself. The heat was intense; 



APPROACH TO THE COL. 



273 



the sun's rays penetrated through the mist without 
dispersing it, and made us feel as if we were in a 
vapour bath. This part of the route must be very 
fine when the atmosphere is clear. Over the Mont 
Mine range rise the loftier peaks of the western 
boundary of the glacier — all partaking of the 
same general pyramidal character in which nature 
seems to rejoice in this part of the Alps; all of 
very dark rock, sufficiently broken to permit the 
deposit of a beautiful network of snow. To the 
north lies the rich valley of Evolena, opening to the 
spectator one glimpse of the wider valley of the 
Rhone, and of the chain of the Diablerets and the 
Sanetsch beyond. When there is leisure to turn 
round, the Dent Blanche, one of the finest peaks in 
the Alps, rises suddenly and sharply almost from 
your feet far into the sky. 

We, however, had very little view beyond an 
occasional glimpse of the valley of Evolena, till we 
neared the summit of the Col, when the clouds 
began to disperse, and we saw the head of the Mont 
Mine chain, now dwarfed into inconsiderable rocks, 
peeping out of the snow, and in front of them the 
portion of the glacier which passes beneath the 
western side of the Motta Rotta, sweeping majesti- 
cally down, intersected by wide and deep crevasses, 



274 



THE MATTEEHOEN. 



and occasionally breaking into seraques which would 
have done no discredit to the Glacier du Geant. 
The ridge on our left was sinking rapidly towards a 
depression, beyond which it rose again in the peak 
of the Tete Blanche. Through this depression it 
was evident we were to pass. Fortunately for the 
effect of the scene, you can see scarcely anything of 
what lies beyond the Col till within a very few 
paces of it. Those few paces are sufficient to dis- 
close, in a few moments, a scene of novel character 
and of unsurpassed magnificence. 

The long low wall of snow close on our left was 
suddenly replaced by no less wonderful an object 
than the peak of the Matterhorn itself, not six miles 
distant from the spot on which we stood, and still 
between three and four thousand feet above us, 
presenting to our astonished gaze a sheer precipice 
of nearly seven thousand feet from the summit to 
the glacier of Zmutt below ; the strata in many 
places so quaintly twisted and contorted as to strike 
the eye at once on beholding it, and to suggest the 
thought what awful convulsions must have been 
Nature's birth-throes when this gigantic object was 
produced. It is impossible to convey any idea of 
the imposing aspect of the Matterhorn as beheld 
from this point. As seen from Zermatt and from 



DENT d'ERIX. 



275 



all the more usual points of view, the mountain 
presents itself edgeways rather than sideways, so 
that you look directly, not upon a face of rock, but 
upon a sharp arete, sloping down towards you, with 
immense precipices on either side ; but here we 
were face to face with one of these precipitous walls, 
and perceived for the first time its real height and 
steepness. I doubt if anywhere else in Europe such 
a precipice is to be seen. For thousands of feet 
together, it is too steep to be able to retain any but 
the lightest and most scattered deposit of snow ; and 
as the eye ranges over its rugged surface, the huge 
mass tapers, now gently, now abruptly, till it ends 
in a narrow blunted ridge of rock, far up in the 
blue sky, yet so near as to be seen with wonderful 
distinctness. Nor is this great peak an object of 
solitary grandeur. Considerably nearer to our Col 
— in fact, just opposite the opening — is the Dent 
d'Erin, not a thousand feet lower than the Matter- 
horn itself, and ending in a huge system of preci- 
pices equally abrupt and inaccessible with those of 
its more gigantic neighbour. Its inferior elevation 
and the greater height of the glaciers out of which 
it springs alone detract from its comparative magni- 
ficence. It has a sharper and more graceful out- 
line ; its precipices are still more abrupt, though not 



276 



THE VIEW FROM THE COL. 



so profound; there are purer and whiter snows 
about the base of its pinnacle; and beneath its faces 
of rock a beautiful curtain of glacier, so steep as 
to give one the impression of a precipice of ice, con- 
nects it with the glacier of Zmutt. It is connected 
also with the Matterhorn, by one long unbroken 
sweep of rock, sometimes bare, sometimes clothed 
with a similar graceful curtain of ice, steeper and 
loftier than any other I remember to have seen. 
Looking at these remarkable masses of ice, you get 
some little notion of how steep the faces of rock 
must be on which neither ice nor snow can lie, 
when you see ice lying for some fifteen hundred 
feet together in a bank so like a precipice as this. 

I have never met with a scene so difficult to de- 
scribe. It is so grand and so vast, and yet so simple, 
that when you have said that the Matterhorn and 
the Dent d'Erin are before you — stupendous preci- 
pices of rock and snow — you have almost said all 
that is to be said of the salient objects in the pros- 
pect. Yet in all my Alpine wanderings I have 
never seen a prospect which seemed to me quite so 
full of majesty as this. 

The Dent d'Erin springs from a very lofty system 
of glaciers which sweep round from its base to the 
Col d'Erin and occupy the right-hand portion of the 



THE GLACIER OF ZMUTT. 



277 



view. They rise gently as they retire, till they 
reach a height of several hundreds of feet above 
the Col. Immediately in front is the glacier of 
Zniutt, but on a much lower level than that on 
which we stand, and separated from the glacier of 
Ferpecle by abrupt faces of black crag. It gradu- 
ally rises towards the ridge between the Dent d'Erin 
and the Tete Blanche, where one common snowfield. 
unites it with the highest portion of the glacier of 
Ferpecle. As if forgetful of its community of 
origin, it has now separated itself far enough from 
the Ferpecle Glacier, and leaves the traveller to get 
from the higher to the lower level as best he may. 
The difference of level is only two or three hundred 
feet, but the terrace on which the glacier of Ferpecle 
is reared is excessively steep. It consists partly of 
rock, partly of a curtain of glacier such as is always 
found at the junction of a glacier, in the region of 
the .neve, with a face of rock ; and, according also 
to universal rule, this curtain is separated from the 
mass of the glacier below by a great crevasse or 
bergschrund, which commences almost as soon as 
the cliffs begin, and runs along nearly the whole 
subsequent length of the glacier. 

Beyond the bergschrund lay our descending 
route ; we had to travel down the glacier for some 

T 3 



278 



HEIGHT OF THE COL. 



distance, and then, working our way across it, to 
reach some rocks (called by Professor Forbes the 
Stoekhi, in Studer's map, the Stockhorn), protrud- 
ing on this side but a short distance from the snow, 
but beneath which, on the further side, we could see 
that a second arm of the glacier lay at a great 
depth. 

I boiled water at Evolena before starting, and 
again on the summit of the Col, and, as I thought, 
made each observation with all the care I could ; 
but the result I got is so exceptional, so seriously 
at variance with several recorded measurements 
before me, that I can have no doubt that my own 
observations are in fault, and I therefore forbear 
to give them. Professor Forbes estimates the 
height of an eminence in the ridge a good deal 
loftier than the Col at 11,760 English feet; but I 
have no idea of the height of the point in question 
above the Col, and therefore cannot deduce thence 
what would be his measurement of the Col itself ; 
a barometrical measurement by MM. G. Studer 
and Ulrich, from observations made on the 15th 
August, 1849, gives 11,203 French, or 11,939 
English feet; and boiling-water observations, for 
which I am indebted to Mr. F. F. Tuckett, of 
Bristol, made on the 20th June, 1856, give 11,612 



MEASUREMENTS. 



279 



English feet. I am inclined to think the estimation 
of MM. Studer and Ulrich is too high. There are 
very few passes in the Alps which attain anything 
like 12,000 feet. I was indebted to the courtesy of 
M. Plantamour, of the Observatory at Geneva, for a 
list of barometrical readings at Geneva, and at the 
St. Bernard, simultaneous with my own observations 
throughout this journey ; so that I was able to test 
the results of my experiments by comparison of 
those obtained by working from the readings at each 
place with which he kindly furnished me, and I am 
satisfied that the error was in the observation at the 
top of the Col, and not in that at Evolena ; but I 
cannot discover to what cause it was due. 

We had reached the Col, after nearly nine hours' 
walking, soon after eleven o'clock. We had not come 
quite so quickly as we had hoped, on account of H., 
who was seriously unwell. The heat of the previous 
day, the long fast, and the bad food at Evolena, had 
completely upset him, and it was no little relief to 
us all to have him safely at the summit, with hardly 
another ascending step before him. We made a 
short halt on the Col, where we lunched and dis- 
missed our Evolena guide. The wretched livings; of 
the valley did not seem to have agreed very well 
with him ; he was utterly unfit for hard work, and 

T 4 



280 



ICE-PENDANTS. 



for the last three hours had been unable to take his 
place in fronts to make the steps in the snow, when 
his turn came. 

We left the Col at half-past eleven, and turning 
very sharp to the left began our descent by passing 
diagonally down a snow-slope, just under the low 
ridge we had skirted so long before we reached the 
Col. Here we saw one of the most wonderful 
sights the ice-world can offer. The upper part of 
the snow-slope consisted of five successive beds of 
snow piled one on the top of the other, each over- 
hanging the one beneath, and each fringed with a 
thick border of long ice-pendants. Picture to your- 
self this scene sparkling in a mid-day sun. Can 
anything be iniagined more fantastically beautiful ? 
— the soft white snow-bank curling over as it rose 
gently from the northern side of the ridge, and 
breaking into a surge of icicles, bound tog-ether at 
their bases by a thick incrustation of fresh-fallen 
snow — this wintery fringe repeated in five succes- 
sive terraces, till the lowest ones were fairly in the 
shade of the upper — and we passed so close be- 
neath the overhanging mass that my shoulder brushed 
off some of the icicles. 

Just underneath this spot we scrambled down 
some rocks, and working diagonally downwards 



CROSSING A BERGSCHRUND. 



281 



approached the bergschrund. We were all four 
tied together. The bergschrund was arched over 
with soft snow. Bellin was first, I second, H. 
third, and C achat brought up the rear. Bellin slid 
over the bridge. He had not waited for H., who 
was third, to come close enough to him, and H. 
misunderstood something that Cachat said, and 
shortened my rope instead of slackening it. The 
consequence was that I was thrown clown on my 
face in the middle of the snow-bridge, and was de- 
tained there for some seconds. Each of my arms 
went through in one place, and one of my knees in 
another, and I saw that the crevasse was seven or 
eight feet wide, and of great depth. I knew that 
if I did not lie still I should go through, and so I 
kept perfectly quiet till the misapprehension was 
removed. H. gave me rope enough, and Bellin 
hauled me across, after which H. and Cachat, each 
in his turn, lay down at full length, and were drawn 
across in the same way, and we all stood safe below 
this formidable obstacle. 

We now worked rapidly down to the Stockhi. 
There is perhaps nothing in Alpine travelling, 
especially amongst the higher glaciers, so surprising, 
nothing which is so ever new, as the effect upon 
the view of change of position. Features of the 



282 



THE STOCK HI. 



scene which looked a while ago absolutely conti- 
guous, turn out to be separated by great chasms and 
valleys, domes turn into ridges, ridges into preci- 
pices, and grand magic transformations are enacted 
at every moment. Nowhere have I seen a better 
illustration of this fact than on the short descent to 
the Stockhi. From the Col, the upper part of that 
range of rocks appeared almost to touch the Dent 
d'Erin, but as we descended an enormous valley 
opened between them, and a system of seraques dis- 
closed itself at the head of this valley, of such mag- 
nitude and grandeur as to recall to us those of the 
Geant and the Taconnay. It turned out that the 
lower arm of the Zmutt Glacier (to which the rocks 
of the Stockhi were to give us access) took its 
origin beneath the very base of the Dent d'Erin, 
and lay embosomed in a vast hollow between that 
peak and the upper arm of the glacier on which we 
stood. The crags that overhang the lower and 
support the higher branch of the glacier form an 
amphitheatre of nearly a thousand feet in height. 

Arrived upon the Stockhi, we paused a moment 
to enjoy the view. The range of Monte Rosa lay 
in front, more than half hidden by the clouds ; the 
Findelen Glacier alone came down out of the mist, 
like a huge serpent creeping towards the fertile 



DIET-BANDS OF THE HOCHWANG GLACIER. 283 

valley. The Riffelberg Inn was very conspicuous, 
perched on the heights above Zermatt. Beneath 
the " long low ridge " of the northern side of the 
Col, was one unbroken range of magnificent pre- 
cipices, forming a jealous and hopeless barrier to 
the glacier of Zmutt. Nearly opposite the Stockhi, 
this wall of rock recedes, forming a deep and wild 
amphitheatre, the nursery of the tributary glacier of 
the Schonbuhl, which descends from beneath the 
very summit of the Dent Blanche. Nearly down 
to its lower extremity the glacier of Zmutt is still 
guarded by the same long line of tremendous pre- 
cipices, — broken, however, by no less than three 
glacier-basins of immense size, the Hochwang, the 
Arbe, and the Distel, — each contributing its quota 
to the glacier of Zmutt. On the Hochwang I 
counted a number of dirt-bands, beginning at the 
foot of an ice-fall, and, like those of the Ferpecle, 
so close to one another as to make it difficult to 
connect the intervals between them with the annual 
rate of motion of the glacier. It increases the 
difficulty, in this case, that the Hochwang is a very 
steep glacier. 

A rapid descent over rocks covered with loose 
bits of broken stone, lasting about a quarter of an 
hour, brought us to the foot of the Stockhi and to 



284 



A VALLEY IN THE ICE. 



the level of the lower arm of the Zmutt Glacier. 
We halted for a few minutes to make some lemonade, 
and then started down the glacier, which was here 
free from new snow and not greatly crevassed. We 
left the Stockhi about a quarter to one o'clock, and 
for some distance kept close to the base of the rock. 
On reaching the end of the ridge, however, we 
found the glacier much crevassed. The lateral 
pressure is in some degree removed, and, as might 
be expected, the crevasses begin to fall away to the 
left. Cachat took to the moraine, which I detest ; 
but I felt certain that by striking towards the 
middle of the glacier I should come to the narrow 
ends of the crevasses, and probably be able to cut 
them nearly all at once. It was as I expected, and 
I found no difficulty in passing them all. I came 
to one very remarkable spot. There was a ridge 
of ice before me stretching half across the glacier ; 
on climbing it I found beneath me, not so much a 
crevasse as a deep trench or valley in the ice, at 
least eighty feet deep, the lower side not being half 
so high as the upper, and the general level of the 
glacier appearing to undergo a corresponding altera- 
tion, I could not tell why. 

For more than an hour, as we descended the long- 
glacier of Zmutt, the rain was falling as fast as it 



DIRTINESS OF THE ZMUTT GLACIER. 285 



could in the basin of the Distel Glacier on our left. 
The storm never seemed to move, but over that 
amphitheatre hung one black solid mass of cloud, 
out of which the rain came down in a cone. It 
looked just like a great shower-bath. There was a 
most brilliant rainbow, in which we saw every one 
of the colours distinctly shown behind the rain and 
in front of the glacier and rock. On our right the 
avalanches were falling constantly from the precipi- 
tous curtain joining the Dent d'Erin and the Mat- 
terhorn. 

The glacier of Zmutt is very much compressed, 
and many of its tributaries have medial moraines of 
their own. In consequence of this circumstance, 
they are all driven so close together at the ex- 
tremity of the glacier as nearly to touch one another. 
Seen from a little distance the whole surface appears 
covered with moraines, and the Zmutt may fairly 
claim to be considered the dirtiest glacier in Switzer- 
land. The moraine of the Stockhi is conspicuous 
not only for its size, but for the deep red which is 
the prevailing colour of the stones which it brings 
down. It preserves its characteristic aspect to the 
very end of the glacier. 

The Hornli Glacier is a conspicuous object on the 
right, descending from the northern face of the 



286 



THE GLACIEE-PfLESS. 



Matterhorn. It is not safe to quit the glacier of 
Znmtt till the Hornli is left well behind, as it is 
very prolific in avalanches ; so that we had to get 
nearly to the bottom of the glacier of Zmu.it before 
we could leave it and take to the mountain side. I 
had le,t my companions go on ahead, and was leaning 
on my stick, trying to take in the grand scenery 
around me, when my ear was struck by a curiou? 
sound. I listened, and after a few minutes heard 
again distinctly the peculiar creaking sound you get 
when you squeeze ice in a Bramah's press. It was 
the ice of the glacier straining under the operation 
of Nature's great press, as it was urged relentlessly 
through its narrowing channel. 

We left the glacier at half-past two, after travers- 
ing a pre-eminently disagreeable bit of moraine- 
bestrewed glacier ; and climbing a grassy knoll 
beneath the Schwarzsee, soon found a little path 
leading to the chalets of Zmutt, and thence to Zer- 
matt. A more beautiful path I have scarcely ever 
seen, even amongst the Alps, and I counsel visitors 
to Zermatt to add a trip to the Zmutt Glacier, if 
possible, to the number of their excursions. The 
mountain side is well clothed with masses *of splendid 
dark firs, mixed with larches, dressed, when we saw 
them, in autumn's rich and russet tints. Every 



BEAUTIFUL DESCENT TO ZERMATT. 287 

here and there the woods give way to patches of 
pasture land, of more than common fertility. There 
is a long wood-walk, which we thought all too short, 
beneath dark frowning crags, with lichen-clad firs 
and larches on either hand. It winds its way amongst 
moss-grown boulders and out-croppings of rock, 
which thrust themselves up from amidst a luxuriant 
growth of bilberry bushes, rhododendrons, and other 
Alpine shrubs. By and by, you emerge on to steep 
slopes of verdant turf, watered by little rills of glacier 
water, whence a welcome view of Zermatt, with its 
bright glittering spire and comfort-promising hostel- 
ries, is obtained. Then a narrow bridge is crossed, 
over a roaring cataract which thunders at a great 
depth below, and just leaves room for a path between 
its channel and a set of great cliffs towering to a 
height of more than a thousand feet above it, and a 
few minutes more bring you to the pleasant meadows 
of Zermatt, and the long day's interesting work is 
over. It was just a quarter past four when we 
arrived, and saw the most welcome sight of all, — my 
wife, already safely housed in the inn, after a day of 
hardly less enjoyment than our own, and ready to 
exchange with us the pleasant stories of the day's 
adventures. 



288 



CHAP. X. 

' Right to the mountain's top he pressed, 
But oh ! what sobs the toil confess'd." 



ASCENT OF MONTE EOSA. 

SUPPOSED INACCESSIBILITY. — THE SCHLAGINTWEITS. — MESSRS. SMYTH. 
— TOPOGRAPHY OF MONTE ROSA. — AN OLD FRIEND. — COFFEE AND 
QUARRELS. — A SADDER AND A WISER MAN. — THE COMET. — THE GOR- 
NERGRAT- — THE GORNER GLACIER. — APPEARANCE OF MONTE ROSA. — 
ASCENT TO THE " SADDLE." — OUR FIRST HALT. — A TERRIBLE WIND. 
— A NARROW RIDGE. — THE HOCHSTE SPITZE. — GRAND PANORAMA.— 
THE NORD END SPITZE. — HEIGHT OF THE " SADDLE."— MAGNIFICENT 
CREVASSES. — FATIGUING DESCENT. — A PLEASANT MEETING. — THE 
RIFFELBERG. 

Monte Rosa is, in point of height, the second 
mountain in Europe — being only two or three 
hundred feet lower than the great monarch of the 
Alps. For a long time, it even disputed the palm 
with its mighty rival, but the more accurate explor- 
ations and measurements of modern times have con- 
clusively established its inferiority. It is said to 
derive its name from the rich hues often flung upon 
its ample snows by the glowing lights of ebbing 



SUPPOSED INACESSIBILITY. 289 

day : and perhaps the enormous amphitheatre formed 
by the chain of which it is the principal component, 
with its western exposure, may be peculiarly favour- 
able to the reflection upon its peak of the ruddy 
rays of sunset. Till a few years ago, its boasted 
inaccessibility added the fascination of mystery to 
the unaided and obvious attractions of the scenery. 
No human being had ever reached that sharp peak 
of mingled rock and snow, which, in some lights 
and from some spots, looked but a stone's throw from 
the spectator. The difficulties were said to be ter- 
rible, but what they were no one could tell, for no 
spirit had arisen hardy enough to brave the genius 
of the mountain in his own stronghold — and as 
usual, the unknown was universally accepted as the 
terrible. Some years ago, a great Swiss geologist, 
Professor Ulrich of Berne, made a resolute attempt 
to master this invincible difficulty ; but, assailed by 
storm and wind, he was compelled to halt when still 
a considerable distance from the top; and, though 
his guides went on by themselves, he was unable to 
quit the protection of the rock behind which he was 
sheltering from the tempest, and could neither con- 
firm nor refute the pretensions they made to the 
honour of having stood on that summit whereon 
man had never stood before. Lower peaks, how- 

u 



290 



THE SCIILAGINTWEITS. 



ever, than the actual summit were gained from time 
to time, by one hardy climber after another; and 
at length, in 1851, the Schlagintweits of Berlin 
succeeded in reaching the actual top of Monte 
Rosa. The first Englishmen who accomplished the 
feat were the Messrs. Smyth, three well-known 
Alpine travellers.* The difficulties of the last few 
hundred feet, they described as of the most 
formidable character; but succeeding adventurers 
varied the course which they had taken, and 
avoided some of the worst of the dangers they had 
incurred. 

There still remains, and ever must remain, one 
long ridge, or rather succession of ridges, along the 
very edge of which the final ascent, of some twelve or 
fifteen hundred feet, must be made, where no person 
who is not proof against giddiness and vertigo has 
any right to trust himself. During the whole of this 

* I had always supposed that the Messrs. Smyth were the first 
travellers who gained the summit of Monte Eosa, until I fell in 
accidentally with an interesting little work, published at Aosta in 
1855, entitled " Les Alpes Pennines dans un Jour," by the Canon 
Carrel of that city, in which it is said that the Schlagintweits pre- 
ceded the Messrs. Smyth by three years. M. Carrel is a well-known 
man of science, and I have no doubt he is correct. I commend his 
little book to those who are likely to visit Aosta or the neighbour- 
hood ; they will find a great deal of valuable information, nicely 
given, and in a small compass. 



DIFFICULTIES OF THE ASCENT. 291 

last ascent, the travellers, as seen from a neighbour- 
ing though for inferior height, are cut out in bold 
relief against the clear blue sky. In a score of places, 
not two feet on their right is an unprotected pre- 
cipice of unfathomed depth ; while on their left the 
ice falls so steeply away that, did they slip, there 
would be no halting-place for two or three thousand 
feet. But a " bad head " seems to be a rare pheno- 
menon amongst the class of hardy and vigorous 
young Englishmen who flock in shoals to the dis- 
tricts about Monte Rosa ; for since the fiction of its 
inviolability has been exploded, the excursion has 
become so common that hardly a week — sometimes 
hardly a day, in the height of the season — passes 
without an attempt (generally successful) to ascend 
Monte Rosa. 

I knew the neighbourhood of Monte Rosa well, 
and might perhaps have been the first English tra- 
veller to scale that lofty peak. I was actually on 
my way to Zermatt, in September 1854, and was 
laying plans for the attempt on an early day, when I 
met the Messrs. Smyth, on their way clown the valley 
of St. Nicholas, a day or two after their ascent. I 
felt reluctant to take, as it were, the edge off their 
success, by following instantly in their footsteps, 
and determined to postpone the expedition ; and it 
u 2 



292 TOPOGRAPHY OF MONTE ROSA. 



chanced that the September of 1858 offered me the 
first favourable opportunity for making the attempt, 
by which time the ascent had become one of the 
familiar excursions of the place. 

As you look at a good map of the mountain 
groups of the south of Switzerland, you see that 
Monte Rosa lies at the point of intersection of two 
great chains, each of which may lay some claim to 
it. The first is the great backbone dividing Swit- 
zerland from Italy, and running nearly east and 
west ; the second, to which Monte Rosa more fairly 
belongs, is a rib, running nearly north and south, 
and ending at the valley of the Rhone, which it 
meets nearly at right angles. It is prolonged for a 
short distance on the south of the main chain, divid- 
ing the watercourses which supply the Lys and 
the Sesia, two of the tributaries of the Po. Our 
comparison to a rib, however, would electrify a 
physiologist, if we insisted upon his following us 
into details ; for it throws off various little irregular 
a processes " on either side, one of which, called 
the Gornergrat, plays an important part in the 
topography of Monte Rosa, and enters largely into 
the calculations of every visitor to the neighbour- 
hood. Certain sharp excrescences show themselves 
in the western section of the backbone (reckoning 



TOPOGRAPHY OF MONTE ROSA. 293 

from Monte Rosa). The most remarkable of them 
is also the farthest to the west : it is the stupendous 
peak of the Matterhorn, rising in one bold, sharp, 
pyramidal obelisk no less than five thousand feet 
above the general level of the backbone, and closely 
rivalling Monte Rosa in height — perhaps the most 
amazing object amongst the Alps. To the east of the 
Matterhorn lie several other huge peaks, of which 
the principal are the Breithorn and the Lyskamm, 
each nearly fifteen thousand feet above the level 
of the sea. Then the chain trends a little to the 
north, and away springs what we have called the 
rib — starting boldly with no less aspiring a summit 
than Monte Rosa itself. The important " process " 
of the Gornergrat is an offshoot of the Monte Rosa 
system, reaching an average height of eight or nine 
thousand feet, and marked by one irregular cone 
called the RifFelhorn. It runs nearly parallel 
with the line passing through the summits of the 
Breithorn and the Lyskamm, but is separated from 
them by a huge river of ice, called the Gorner 
Glacier, which descends from the heart of Monte 
Rosa itself, receives half a score of affluent ice- 
streams from the Lyskamm and the Breithorn, and 
at length descends into the head of the valley 
separating the rib of the Monte Rosa chain from 

u 3 



294 



TOPOGRAPHY OF MOXTE ROSA. 



the neighbouring rib to the west. The Tillage of 
Zermatt lies in this valley, a few miles below the 
end of the glacier; and at a distance from Zermatt 
of two or three hours' walk, and at an elevation 
above it of abont three thousand feet, is a pleasant 
turfy slope of the Gornergrat range, looking towards 
the north-west, called the s( Riftelberg," on which a 
little hostelry has been built; — an accommodation 
due, if report speaks truly, to the enterprise of 
three of the neighbouring cures; who have found 
in it a most promising speculation. These topo- 
graphical details are, it is to be feared, a little dry, 
but they could hardly be dispensed with, and we 
must congratulate ourselves if, among the moun- 
tains, they have brought us to no worse a goal than 
the clean and comfortable Riffelberg Inn. 

Monday, the 20th September, was the day fixed 
upon for our expedition. I should have been glad 
enough to wait till a day later, for I had, within one 
week, ascended Mont Blanc, and crossed two of the 
greatest glacier passes in the Alps ; but H., who 
accompanied me, was anxious to return to England, 
and could not spare another day. At the RifFelb erg 
Inn, I was fortunate enough to meet with an old 
acquaintance, Ulrich Lauener, the boldest hunter 
of the Oberland, who had guided the Messrs. Smyth 



CASES OF FROST-BITE. 



295 



in their first ascent, and in the same year had ac- 
complished with me the maiden ascent of the Wet- 
terhorn. We had with us two of the best guides 
of Chamouni, and a young porter of the same 
place ; and confident that where others could find 
their way, they and we should not fail, we had 
resolved to take no guides of the place, but to fight 
'our own way up. I was, therefore, very glad of 
some information as to the route, quickly, clearly, 
and concisely given to me by Lauener. There was 
living proof for us, in the hotel, that the ascent 
might prove not free from risk, for a gentleman lay 
there, at that moment, in bed, in great suffering 
from frost-bite, to which he had exposed himself in 
an unsuccessful attempt to ascend, three or four 
days before, and all Switzerland was then talking 
of a like calamity which had befallen some English 
pedestrians, who had ascended in very inclement 
weather, about the end of August. We knew, 
however, from ample experience, that these acci- 
dents rarely occur where there has been no want of 
precaution, and even Balmat, who had so nearly lost 
his hands on Mont Blanc, a week before, entertained 
no fear of the consequences of undertaking the ex- 
pedition. 

After we had made all our arrangements, ordered 

U 4 



296 



THE COMET. 



our provisions, and fixed our hour of starting, we 
learned that another English gentleman, staying in 
the house, was going to set off on the same expe- 
dition half an hour later than ourselves, and we soon 
came to an agreement to combine our forces — an 
arrangement profitable to both parties, for we could 
hardly expect not to make some blunders in shaping 
our course, which would make us lose time and add 
to our labour ; and, on the other hand, as the snow 
was likely to be deep, eight would find it lighter 
work than three. We watched a glorious sunset ; 
and as the daylight faded away, the great comet 
stole into life, above the mountains in the west. 

The next morning we rose before two, and found 
a cup of hot coffee and a quarrel in readiness for 
us. The two guides of our new friend were 
ie locals ; " one of them belonging to Yisp, the other 
to Zermatt. Our three men were outsiders from 
another district, and were about to commit the un- 
pardonable offence of poaching on the Zermatt 
manor. There were half a dozen other Zermatt men 
in the house, and they and the landlord combined in 
an attempt to punish us for our interference with 
their " vested rights." I heard high words freely 
bandied about below, and, on going down stairs, 
found our Francois Cachat remonstrating against 



AN ALTEECATION. 



297 



the provisions selected for our use. There was, in- 
deed, good reason for his complaints — a leg of lean 
mutton, full of veins and gristle, a hunch of black 
bread, insufficient in quantity and bad in quality, 
were the staple articles offered us for a most laborious 
day. When the landlord saw me arrive on the scene, 
he slunk into a sort of den ; but I ferreted him out, 
and remonstrated with him as the magnitude of the 
offence deserved. He had reproached our men with 
not making us take provisions enough. Other 
people, he said, spent sixty francs in fowls and wine, 
and etceteras of one sort or another : we had ordered 
what would not come up to a sixth of that amount. 
Then the local guides chimed in, and declared they 
would not start with us, to show our Chamouni 
men the way, unless we would take one of the Zer- 
matt guides as well. One of the latter had actually 
dressed and breakfasted, in anticipation of being able 
to profit by our necessities. Of course, the land- 
lord professed himself an ill-used innocent : he knew 
nothing of the confederacy against us, and to him 
it was a matter of pure indifference how much or 
how little we chose to take. Our friend of last 
evening now made his appearance, and found his 
recalcitrant guides refuse to stir. We expressed 
our regret at being the cause of any trouble or an- 



298 



A VICTORY. 



noyance to hini, and offered to separate from his 
party, and either go on ahead or follow an hour or 
two later, as he might choose ; but he showed great 
courtesy and spirit, — would hear of nothing of the 
kind; declined any discussion with his guides, and 
offered them the simple choice of going with us or 
staying behind : it was a matter for them, he said, 
not for him. At the same time he joined in my 
onslaught on our host, and our united attacks soon 
silenced the enemy's fire. Better provender was 
sulkily brought out ; and the guides, with equal 
sulkiness, prepared to " eat the leek," and follow in 
our train. 

All this fracas, however, took some time, and 
it was quite three o'clock when we filed off from 
the hotel. We had been promised a lantern, the 
better to pick our way over the top of the Gorner- 
grat range, but the landlord could not make up his 
mind to forego inflicting some annoyance, and he 
accordingly would not find it, and declared his 
further inability to furnish us with raisins, which 
are a great comfort in a long and hard ascent, and 
which had been readily forthcoming on the previous 
evening. It was, however, a great consolation to 
think of the Zermatt guide, his early breakfast, and 
his rueful face as he turned away from the door, — 



A SULKY FELLOW. 



299 



sadder, and we trusted a wiser, man. One of our 
local friends still sulked in. no common degree, and 
kept out of sight of us in the darkness. It was not 
for nearly three hours afterwards that he deigned to 
draw near, and give us the pleasure of his company. 
The other, a smart, brisk, merry, good-tempered 
fellow, recovered himself directly, and apologized 
for having appeared in the mess at all : he was of 
Yisp; and he declared (whether truly or not it is 
impossible to say) that the Zermatt men threatened 
him with a sound beating if he did not join their 
faction. At all events, if he had been less unwilling 
to do so than he represented himself, he made the 
best atonement he could for his error, and proved 
himself active and intelligent, thoroughly conversant 
with the route, a bold iceman, a bold cragsman, and 
a cheerful and pleasant companion. 

It was a perfect September night. The tempera- 
ture was 4°*5 Centigrade (about 40° Fahrenheit), 
and the stars shone brightly out of a cloudless sky. 
The comet was now descending rapidly towards the 
dark outline of the Gornergrat; the magnificent 
constellation of Orion was in front of us, and seemed 
like a bright omen of success, as we groped our way 
across the broken turf by which we had to ascend 
to a gap in the ridge, where the path to the glacier 



300 



STARLIGHT. 



begins. The omen, interpreted aright, however, 
betokened a not unclouded day; for some of the 
largest stars were surrounded by a thin veil of mist, 
through which their bright rays bravely fought their 
way, and reached us scarcely less brilliant than they 
were before encountering the vapour. We could 
scarcely see a trace of snowy mountains before us : 
Monte Rosa and the neighbouring summits are not 
visible from the Riffelberg, being hidden by the in- 
tervening; rano-e of the Gornerorat. 

When we first started, the Matterhorn towered in 
solitary grandeur on our right, his great glaciers 
streaming down on every side, and lighting up the 
gloom of the deep valley beneath with a dim and 
spectral light. We turned to the left almost at once, 
and left him behind us ; and as we rose gently on the 
soft turf of the Gornergrat, a huge wall of crag and 
snow loomed upon us through the darkness, and we 
distinguished the Breithorn, and to its left the Lys- 
kamm, and, last of all, the great mountain we were 
about to assail, which, with a due regard to effect, was 
concealed from us for some time after the other peaks 
were full in view. The effect of that dim starlight 
on glacier scenery is peculiarly striking : it is im- 
possible to form any conception of the actual or re- 
lative distances of different objects; and when we 



DESCENT TO THE GLACIEE. 301 



reached the gap of the Gornergrat, the great Gorner 
Glacier, which swept beneath our feet many hun- 
dreds of feet below us, seemed so close that a step 
or two ought to bring us to it. We had, however, 
a good hour's walk before we reached it, for it 
stretches out its long length for several miles at the 
foot of the Gornergrat range ; and a little path has 
been cut in the mountain side, descending very 
gently all the way, by which you gain the glacier at 
no great distance from the base of Monte Rosa. 
This path is safer by night than by day, for it is a 
favourite pastime with visitors to the Gornergrat 
(with ladies, especially, I am told,) to roll down 
stones from above, which render the passage neither 
agreeable nor safe. The path requires some little 
caution in the dark, for in one or two places it passes 
at the top of precipitous gullies, or on ledges in 
smooth slabs of rock, down which you would go 
much further than you liked, if you chanced to 
slip. It was somewhere about half-past four when 
we reached the ice, and climbed up the sloping 
bank which forms the edge of the glacier. It was 
freezing very hard, as we found out, for it was 
necessary to help ourselves up the first few paces 
with our hands as well as our knees. Here my 
friend H. had the misfortune to drop his alpen- 



302 



DAYBREAK. 



stock into a crevasse, whence it could not be re- 
covered ; and one of our men was obliged, in con- 
sequence, to go without a stick the whole day long 
— a great addition to his labour. 

After passing a few yards further on to the 
glacier, the ice was entirely uncrevassed; but we 
had to pick our way with care, to avoid stumbling 
into little pits of water, of which it was singularly 
full. They were just frozen over, and if we had 
wet our feet thoroughly by stepping into them, there 
mio;ht have been serious risk of frost-bite later in 
the day. It was rapidly getting lighter, however, 
and we were all fortunate enough to escape a wet- 
ting of any consequence. The break of day was 
very grand. It was later in the season than I have 
been accustomed to watch it on such expeditions, 
and the dull, dead violet, which I first noticed over 
the precipices of the Lyskamm, was to me a most 
unusual tint. It reminded me strongly of the skies 
in pictures and panoramas I have seen of scenes in 
the Arctic regions. The glacier appears but a 
stone's throw across, when seen from the Gorner- 
grat, but it was quite light before we had tra- 
versed it, and a delicate rosy blush, the herald of 
the day, reflected from the sky above or from some 
cloud in the east, was flung over the long, snowy, 



MONTE ROSA. 



303 



rounded summit of the Lyskamm. It was not the 
true daylight, however, for the great Matterhorn 
still slept in the dead cold white which is the hue 
of lofty peaks before daylight breaks. 

Monte Rosa rises at the head of the Gorner Gla- 
cier in one huge hump, totally destitute of the 
graceful proportions of Mont Blanc. Nor is it sur- 
rounded, like the monarch of the Alps, by a forest 
of those needle-like peaks to which the appropriate 
name of " Aiguilles " has been given. The Gorner 
Glacier streams from it in three great arms — those 
on the right and left holding the " hump " in a close 
embrace, while the middle portion issues from the 
very heart of the mountain itself. As we stand 
face to face with Monte Rosa, on the central portion 
of the Gorner Glacier, looking into the great rocky 
basin out of which it comes forth on its long journey 
to the valley, where the ice-existence is destined to 
fade away, and to take a new and more vigorous 
life, as an impetuous and resistless mountain torrent, 
we see that the least elevated portion of the glacier 
lies to our left, and has its origin in the long ridge 
of snow connecting the upper extremity of the 
GorneroTat range with the mass of Monte Rosa. 
Close underneath the mountain, the ridge attains a 
height of perhaps ten or eleven thousand feet ; but 



304 



MONTE ROSA. 



Monte Eosa itself shoots forth from it, in a broken 
wall of nearly perpendicular rock, which can scarcely 
be less than two thousand feet high. Above this 
huge precipice is a long, sharp ridge of snow, leading 
up to the Nord End Spitze, the northernmost of 
several points which are all called by the generic 
name of summits. From the lower part of this 
snow-ridge springs another set of precipices, coming 
forward towards the spectator with a rapidly lower- 
ing outline. This range curves gently round from 
its highest to its lowest portion, bending from right 
to left, and then again from left to right, like the 
printer's mark at the beginning of a parenthesis. 
The other mark, to complete the parenthesis, is the 
right-hand boundary of the mass of Monte Rosa — a 
series of precipitous cliffs of rock, broken by steep 
curtains and rounded faces of glacier, which bind 
together the higher and the lower systems of crags. 
The parenthetical matter included between these 
two gigantic curves could hardly be left out without 
seriously damaging the general effect, for it com- 
prehends the great central basin of Monte Rosa — 
the reservoir of the middle arm of the Gorner Gla- 
cier. The two parenthesis-marks form a consi- 
derable portion of a circle. The circle, however, 
would be one inclined at a very steep angle to a 



MONTE ROSA. 



305 



horizontal plane, for the edge of the rocky wall 
on either hand rises very steeply, all the way from 
the foot of Monte Kosa nearly to the summit. The 
two boundaries, right and left, converge at the 
bottom, and force the vast mass of glacier which 
descends from the central portion of Monte Rosa to 
pass at length down a steep but even incline through 
a comparatively narrow passage, its only means of 
escape into the valley down which the collection of 
glacier systems from Monte Rosa, the Lyskamm, 
and the Breithorn, descend towards Zermatt. 

The rounded irregular basin which occupies the 
central portion of Monte Rosa is filled with ice from 
top to bottom. Three or four considerable masses 
of rock alone diversify the vast extent of white. 
These masses group themselves in a kind of dotted 
inner ring within the greater boundary just de- 
scribed, and, with the humps which form the lowest 
portion of either of the great boundary systems, 
make a very tolerable circle. Their effect upon the 
glacier is shown by the dirtier aspect it wears be- 
neath them ; due mainly to boulders, debris, and 
dust, partly rubbed off them by the movement of 
the glacier, partly split away by the action of al- 
ternate thaw and frost, and scattered by wind and 
tempest over the surface of the snow. Above them 



306 



THE GORNER GLACIER. 



all is white and dazzling. Dome after dome of 
swelling snow rises from this ring of rocks nearly to 
the summit of the mountain, each either separated 
from its neighbour by a long wall of broken shat- 
tered ice-cliffs, now very generally termed "seraques," 
or connected with one another by a smooth curtain 
of unbroken snow. The upper part of the glacier 
system is little crevassed, and it is easy to see from 
below, or with more certainty from the Gornergrat, 
that the peculiar difficulties of Mont Blanc — the 
huge gulfs of crevasses and the labyrinths of 
broken and tumbled ice which must be passed — do 
not exist on Monte Rosa. On the other hand, it 
is equally easy to see that the ascent of the actual 
summit, a steep cone of mingled rock and glacier, 
may present most formidable difficulties of its own. 

The left-hand boundary of the Gorner Glacier — 
the range so often named as the Gornergrat — from 
its highest portion, called the Hochthaligrat, where 
rock and glacier unite nearly at the same level, to 
its lower extremity, a few miles above Zermatt, con- 
tributes nothing to the glacier stream. The right- 
hand boundary is perhaps the grandest chain of 
summits in the Alps, beginning with the Lyskamm, 
which is joined by a short snowy ridge to Monte 
Rosa, and separated from it by a deep valley, filled 



THE GORNER GLACIER. 



30/ 



with a majestic and much-crevassed glacier, whence 
both mountains rise in precipitous majesty, continuing 
with the inferior peaks of the Zwillinge, or Castor 
and Pollux, the vast and frowning mass of the 
Breithorn, the smaller summit of the Little Mont 
Cervin, and ending in the awful pinnacle of the 
Matterhorn. The whole of this long line of rock and 
snow makes constant contributions to the Gorner 
Glacier. How one comparatively narrow channel 
can receive all the huge ice-streams which pour into 
it, and convey their united contents to the valley 
below, strikes one as one of the greatest of the many 
marvels of the glacier world. Besides inferior gla- 
cier masses which overhang the Gorner in several 
places, no less than four enormous glaciers flow down 
from the intervals between these great peaks, or 
from beneath their bases, the two largest beino- 
themselves compounds, each of two distinct affluents. 
So great an accumulation of ice forced into so narrow 
a bed is probably nowhere else to be seen. 

But I am forgetting the actual ascent for the 
wonders of the way. About half past five we came 
to the rocks forming the western or right-hand 
boundary of the central glacier system of Monte 
Rosa. The sun was really rising now, for the Mat- 
terhorn was just tipped with gold. Here we left 
x 2 



308 



COURSE OF THE ASCENT. 



the glacier and climbed for about half an hour with 
great ease up the rocks. They were highly polished 
and rounded — moutonnes, as it is called — by the 
action of the glacier at some former period, when it 
must have covered them ; but also much broken up 
into separate masses, between which charming tufts 
of short rough Alpine grass were growing. It was 
getting; near six o'clock when we reached a little 
valley of rocks, into which a tongue of glacier de- 
scended, and here we left a portion of our provisions 
and took first to the snows of Monte Rosa himself. 
The next three or four hours' ascent was to consti- 
tute the laborious part of the day's work. It is 
almost entirely up this right-hand side of the glacier 
system of Monte Rosa that the ascent of it is made. 
A certain hollow or gap between the actual summit 
on the left, and a snowy protuberance on the right, 
lying very nearly straight above the point we had 
reached, is called the " Saddle," and it is from this 
Cf Saddle " that the last and formidable climb must 
be begun. 

To reach this " Saddle," which we gained three 
or four hours later, we diverged less to the right 
or to the left than in any other great ascent I 
have made. We began by scaling a slope of snow 
broken by rocks, of about 38°, as measured by 



COURSE OF THE ASCENT. 309 

the clinometer. In the afternoon we descended 
this slope in less than five minutes, but it took us a 
o^ood half hour to climb it. This brought us to a 
fine snowy dome, surmounting one of the faces of 
rock I have described as forming the right-hand 
boundary of the glacier system. We now made a 
short slanting course to the right, and then, ad- 
dressing ourselves straight to the next slope of snow, 
passed without the least difficulty through a portion 
of the glacier where alone I should have anticipated 
some embarrassment from the crevasses. We now 
entered one of those delusive holloivs, which, seen 
from below, are always supposed to give a space of 
level, if not of descending, walking ; but which 
always turn out quite otherwise. It was a relief, 
however, for the incline was gentle, which is more 
than I can say for most of Monte Rosa. Another 
slope was now climbed, at the top of which we 
passed again through a small system of crevasses, 
and emerged into a second seeming hollow, where 
we had on our left a magnificent wall of ruddy 
crags, hundreds of feet high, which ran by our side 
for many minutes, though from the Gornergrat they 
look like a mere speck. Then came another steep 
and unbroken slope, up which we were obliged to 
zig-zag. Each time we reached the right-hand end 

x 3 



310 



AREIVAL AT THE " SADDLE. 5 ' 



of our zig-zags, we were rewarded by a grand view 
of the great system of precipices, raising this part of 
Monte Rosa above the Lyskamm valley. They cannot 
be less than from a thousand to fifteen hundred feet 
in height. Arrived at the top of this slope, we found 
ourselves at the brink of a long, wide, and deep 
crevasse, so completely masked that it was not till 
we looked over the ridge of snow which formed its 
lower edge, that we had a suspicion of its existence. 
We had to go far to the right to turn it ; and then 
entered upon the last and steepest of the snow- 
slopes, up which we zig-zagged perseveringly, 
against an ever increasing inclination, till all at 
once we found ourselves unexpectedly walking 
more on a level, and a few steps brought us to the 
long-wished-for " Saddle." 

During the greater part of this ascent the cold 
was intense ; for the last two hours the snow had 
been quite dry and powdery, showing that even the 
midday sun of the previous days, hot as it had 
seemed to us in the valleys, had had no power to 
melt it, and consequently the cold of the night had 
had no effect in compacting it, and had rendered no 
service to the climber. At every step we sank 
nearly to the knees, and even then hardly found 
secure footing. It was difficult to keep one's feet 



COLD AND FATIGUE. 



311 



from freezing. In spite of rabbits' fur wrapped 
round the toes, and secured and supplemented by a 
coating of grease (an invaluable precaution), in 
spite of two pairs of stockings, it was only by dint 
of energetic kicking of one foot against the other, 
that any ghost of life was kept in them. The 
mountain itself had lain between us and sunlight ; 
once, soon after nine o'clock, we had come upon the 
welcome beams, straggling, if I remember right, 
through the " Saddle " itself ; and for some short 
time we had enjoyed the cheering rays. I remember 
particularly feeling some little warmth as we skirted 
the long and deep crevasse, but the slope became 
steeper, and we entered the shade it cast. The 
wind at the same time became stronger and keener, 
and we toiled up the last snow-slopes exposed to 
cold of no common kind. I was feeling greatly the 
fatigues of the last week, which my friend H. had 
not fully shared ; he had ascended Mont Blanc two 
days before myself, and had had two days of com- 
parative rest, while I was making that expedition. 
It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that I had 
been pounding on for some time in a state of mind 
and body by no means to be envied. My limbs 
tottered, my heart beat violently, my eyes shut 
against my will, and nothing but a stern application 

X 4 



312 



THE " SADDLE." 



of a maxim of Balmat's, " Les pantalons blancs no 
reculent jamais," (I wore a pair of white flannel 
cricketing trowsers,) carried me on. It was only 
objects of powerful interest that roused me. For 
instance, on meeting the sunlight it had been pro- 
posed to take a glass of wine, and that had stirred 
me to unwonted life. I drank freely of a vile com- 
pound of bad marsala, cognac, and water, dignified 
by the pretentious name of (i old sherry " (save the 
mark !). The great crevasse was exquisitely be- 
decked with icicles, and its grim depth of beautiful 
horrors sufficed to rouse me again from my trance. 
Within a few yards of the (S Saddle " we passed the 
end of a wild abyss of crevasse, evidently part of a 
" bergschrund," at the foot of the far steeper slope 
above, into which the most wearied or incurious 
passer-by could hardly look without interest or 
excitement. 

On the " Saddle " itself, however, apathy was out 
of the question. A few rocks jutted up on either 
hand, and below them almost a sheer precipice of 
ice and snow fell away to an enormous glacier basin 
on the other side, whose existence we had not so 
much as conjectured before, but which takes its 
origin in the precipices beneath the summit, or 
Hochste Spitze, itself, and is bounded by the ridge 



THE " SADDLE." 



313 



connecting Monte Rosa with the Lyskamm. That 
ridge we had imagined to be close to the " Saddle ;" 
but now, for the first time, we saw that it sweeps 
away from beneath the Hochste Spitze, and lies far 
back from the ridge on which we stood. I have 
rarely gazed down so very precipitous a wall of rock 
and ice and snow as that on which we were now 
perched. To our right was a little hump of snow , 
but the point of interest was on our left, for there 
lay a long, narrow ridge of ice, crowned with out- 
cropping rocks, and rising very sharply from our 
feet. This was the beginning of the famous cone 
of Monte Rosa himself ; and the narrow portal 
through which we gazed upon the depths of the 
glacier below was the spot now so well known to 
Alpine wanderers as the " Saddle." 

We now called a halt, the first of any conse- 
quence we had made since starting. We had 
breakfasted at two, and it was now nearly ten 
o'clock, and we all felt that food was a necessity. 
We descended a few feet on the further side of the 
" Saddle," to some straggling rocks. It was ludi- 
crous enough to see us, all blue in the face with 
cold, and kicking our feet against the rocks as hard 
as we could, to revive them. There was sunlight, 
but it was dimmed by having to pierce some white 



314 FURIOUS WIND AND INTENSE COLD. 



clouds, so that it caused us little warmth, and the 
wind was as fearful as any I ever encountered. It 
is difficult for any one who has had no experience 
of them to form a conception of what these moun- 
tain winds are on elevated summits. They are 
armed with a dry, scorching, penetrating' cold, 
against which no clothing is proof, and they facili- 
tate frost-bite more than any other accident of 
weather. Balmat had nearly lost his hands on 
Mont Blanc, a week before, and I was in real 
anxiety about him, especially as his feet also were 
very much benumbed. Mine were very cold, but 
not quite so senseless as his. I believe all of us 
would have been in danger if we had had to submit 
to that wind for many minutes. Still, eating and 
drinking were absolutely necessary, though we per- 
formed them as speedily as we could — so hurriedly 
that, I regret to say, I left a valuable many-bladed 
knife — a very old friend — behind me on the rocks. 
We had brought some champagne with us — an ines- 
timable resource in the mountains — and it put new 
life and vigour into us all ; and in a very few 
minutes we had resumed our journey. The knap- 
sacks were left behind at the ff Saddle," and an ap- 
paratus for boiling water, as a means of measuring 
heights, I was reluctantly obliged to leave also, for 



THE LAST ASCENT. 



315 



I felt that I had no right to endanger myself or 
others by staying to use it in such a climate. 

The Hochste Spitze, for which we were bound, 
was not visible at first, being concealed by the ridge 
we had now to climb ; but shortly after we started, 
a slight bend in the direction of the ridge revealed 
it towering still nearly a thousand feet above us. I 
confess I had very little hope of being able to reach it, 
in the face of the awful blast which was shrieking and 
roaring about us ; but, by a fortunate accident, we 
had not been ten minutes on our way when it began 
to fall, and before long it was almost a calm. Some- 
times, the steep slope we had to mount is all hard 
ice ; then every step must be cut with the hatchet, 
and the process is long and most fatiguing. Happily 
for us, the very edge of the ridge was snow, and 
we were able to dispense almost entirely with step- 
cutting. In many places, at a couple of feet to our 
left, all was hard as ice and smooth as glass. To 
our right was a few inches' width of snow, and then 
a rocky precipice. The precipice was sometimes 
absolutely perpendicular, and of course quite bare 
of snow, and for scores of feet marked by nothing 
to break the sheer descent; sometimes merely so 
steep as to be the next thing to perpendicular. No- 
where, however, could we see more than a few dozen 



316 



THE LAST ASCENT. 



feet down the wall of rock: and then the next 
object was the glacier basin, a good thousand feet 
beneath ! 

We toiled slowly up the snow, for the ridge was 
very steep (I measured it in descending, and found 
the angle 36°), and there was no room to zig-zag. 
At length the snow ended, and we took to a narrow 
ledge of rocks. The description usually given is 
literally true. It was in no place more than three 
feet wide ; in many, not a third of that width. On 
the right is a precipice ; on the left a bank of snow, 
so steep as to be just as bad. This sounds awful 
enough ; but I must say that to me the passage 
seemed, as we found it, destitute alike of danger 
and difficulty. The rocks are solid, not friable and 
treacherous as on the Wetterhorn; there is good 
hand-hold and foot-hold, and a slip seemed to me all 
but impossible. I can conceive that, when covered 
with ice, as they often are, they may require the 
utmost caution ; but we had the singular good for- 
tune to find our path thickly paved with snow, or 
metalled with the solid rock. I can give no better 
idea of my own feeling of security than by the 
following fact. In spite of fingerless gloves, well 
lined with foxes' fur, my hands were numbed and 
senseless ; and, in order to warm them, I stuck first 



THE LAST ASCENT. 



317 



one, and then the other, into the waistband of my 
trowsers, and actually walked nearly all the way 



was narrowest. There were two large blocks of 
stone, three or four feet apart. Between them was 
a little hollow, filled with snow, and in the snow I 
saw the footprints of my predecessors, in the hollow. 
It never occurred to me to go down and up again, 
and I jumped from one block to the other, as a 
matter of course. 

From the top of the first snow-slope we saw 
exactly what lay before us — a short clambering 
descent, a narrow level ridge of snow, then a second 
ridge, shorter, but very much steeper than the first, 
and above that another narrow ridge of rocks. Of 
course, it was the same sort of work again ; but if 
that short connecting ridge were ice instead of snow, 
it would be the worst place of all to cross, and I 
am inclined to think I should prefer to sit astride 
and work myself along in that position. These 
horizontal ridges are far more trying to walk along 
than those which have a steep inclination, and they 
are always narrower. This, being of snow and not 
of ice, offered no difficulty, and the last ridge was 
quickly attacked. It proved in equally good con- 




318 



THE SUMMIT. 



dition with the first, and led us to a steep climb 
over the rocks, ending in a couple of little chimneys, 
one after the other. Near the top of the second, a 
rock had fallen in, and half filled it up, so that pass- 
ing it was like climbing round a projecting coping. 
However, hands and knees will do a good deal, and 
so far on our day's journey this was not likely to 
stop us. Being tired, I had gone last, not to hinder 
any one else, and on poking my head out of the top 
of the second chimney, I found, to my great sur- 
prise, "no more worlds to conquer," nothing but 
blue sky above me, my companions already seated 
about on one ledge or another — and I was on the 
top of Monte Rosa. 

It is literally true that on the summit of Monte 
Rosa there is not room for two persons to stand at a 
time ; but there is a mass of jumbled rocks about 
the summit, on which we all found space to stand, 
and even to move about. On every side abrupt 
precipices fall away from the Hochste Spitze. The 
most abrupt are on the north-west, or Gornergrat 
side, and here I, being securely tied by a rope, de- 
scended three or four feet, and scraping away the 
snow, built up a little construction of stones, within 
which I placed a self-registering thermometer, and 
covered it again, to the depth of two or three feet, 



MAGNIFICENT PANORAMA. 



319 



with snow. I was not able to go there again, as I 
had hoped to do, in 1859, and I do not suppose 
I shall now ever learn to what point it has de- 
scended. 

The panoramic view from Monte Rosa is one of 
almost unrivalled interest. I cannot compare it 
with that of Mont Blanc, for twice has the weather 
been against me, and I do not yet know what is to 
be seen from that, the only peak in Europe loftier 
than Monte Rosa ; but my friend H., who had 
had a glorious view ten days before from Mont 
Blanc, declared that it was quite eclipsed by what 
we now beheld. There were, alas ! multitudes of 
clouds, but they did not form a solid bank of im- 
penetrable obscurity, as when I stood that day week, 
almost at the same hour, on the summit of Mont 
Blanc. The clouds, as usual, lay thickest on the 
Italian side ; but between them we saw plainly the 
Lago Maggiore, the plains of Italy, and the distant 
Apennines. The Sesia springs from a huge glacier 
situated almost at our feet ; but the Sesia's tide was 
yet uncrimsoned, and the heavy clouds that floated 
below us were charged with fertility, not with de- 
solation. I little thought, as I gazed upon the rich 
and peaceful scene — so grateful a contrast to the 
eternal snow and lifeless rocks which encompassed 



320 



MAGNIFICENT PANORAMA. 



us — what deeper and more tragic interests would 
shortly gather round that fated land, or how soon 
amidst those fruitful plains would 

. . " some stream obscure, some uncouth name, 
By deeds of blood be lifted into fame." 

Least of all, was there anything to suggest to us 
that aught was threatening in the west, for there 
the whole range of Mont Blanc stood out sharp and 
clear against the blue sky. The great " Calotte " 
of the Alpine monarch, the Mur de la Cote, the 
Col du Geant, the Grandes J orasses, the Aiguille 
Verte, were as distinctly visible as on a map. We 
saw them nearly over the ridge of the Lyskamm. 
A vast mountain stood out much nearer to us, in 
majestic proportions. It was the Grand Combin ; 
behind which was displayed the rugged outline of 
the Velan, though in diminished size. Nearly in a 
line with these, but of course much nearer to us, 
rose the sharpest and sublimest of the peaks of 
Europe — the stupendous Matterhorn — a narrow 
pyramid of rock, scarcely flecked with snow, and 
literally looking higher from where we stood than 
it did from the valley of Zermatt, nearly eleven 
thousand feet below. No words can convey the 
grandeur of the range of peaks of which the Mat- 
terhorn now formed the intermediate point — the 



MAGNIFICENT PANOEAMA. 321 

Lyskamm, the Zwillinge, the Breithorn, the Little 
Mont Cervin, leading up to him along a huge ram- 
part of rock and glacier streaming with a score of 
vast ice-rivers pouring down towards the great 
central flood of the Gorner ; the chain continuing 
with the Gabelhorner, the Rothhorn, the Weisshorn, 
and the Bruneckhorn, over which were seen a mul- 
titude of inferior summits. The Dent d'Erin, which 
I had seen two days before from the Col d'Erin, to 
the right of the Matterhorn, and rivalling it in 
sublimity, now lay to the left of that peak, and was 
dwarfed into comparatively insignificant dimensions. 
To the north and north-west the eye ranged over 
a troubled sea of peaks, in which the great summits 
of the Oberland were of course conspicuous ; the 
Jungfrau standing up in one sharp, well-defined 
pyramid, followed by the long ridge of the Eigher, 
after which came the pointed peak of the Finsteraar- 
horn. Rather nearer, and very prominent, were the 
twin summits of the Engelhorner, and nearer still 
the huge rocky masses of the Aletschhorn, with the 
great glacier of the Aletsch streaming round its 
base. Far, far away, beyond all these nearer ranges, 
are the snowy peaks of the Grisons; and further 
still in the east and south-east even the distant 
groups of the Ortler Spitze, and the Bernina ; so 

Y 



322 



THE NORD END SPITZE. 



that even the two score leagues that roll be- 
tween us and the remote Tyrol, are as nothing 
to the eyes that gaze on them from this commanding 
station. 

Perhaps, after all, some of the sublimest objects 
are the nearer ones. North of us rises a fearful 
peak at no great distance, and scarce two hundred 
feet lower than our own ; but connected with the 
Hochste Spitze by a ridge so steep that we could 
not see the portions close to us. This is the Nord 
End Spitze, which from many a point of view 
appears the true summit, and which from what we 
saw I believe to be far more difficult of access than 
Monte Rosa itself. Beneath it, to the right, so near 
that one would fancy it possible to throw a stone 
upon it, lies Macugnaga, at least two miles of ab- 
solute depth below. The highest part of the famous 
Weiss Thor passage, and the fearful precipices down 
which a passage may be won from Zermatt to Ma- 
cugnaga, were excellently seen. The sharp outline 
of the Nord End Spitze forbade us to follow the 
whole of the pass, from the head of the Hochthali- 
grat ridge to the commencement of the descent. 

It is often reckoned three hours' work to reach 
the summit of Monte Rosa from the cc Saddle." In 
our case they had dwindled into one. It was barely 



HEIGHT OF THE i( SADDLE." 323 

eleven when we gained the top, and, despite the cold, 
we managed to stay there three quarters of an hour, 
when, being all chilled to the bones, we thought it 
as well to descend. I remember well how my teeth 
chattered, and all the bones in my body seemed to 
be playing rough music against one another. The 
descent required some caution and all one's eyesight, 
but by a quarter past twelve we were all seated once 
more upon the " Saddle," where happily the wind 
was now moderate, and I was able to boil some 
water. The "Saddle " I make by this test to be about 
6,160 feet above the Riffelberg. Oddly enough, I 
have not been able to find any reliable measurement 
of the Riffelberg, but I made boiling-water obser- 
vations at 2 a.m. and at 5 P.M. on this day ; and, 
comparing both of them with the simultaneous 
barometric readings at Geneva and at the St. Ber- 
nard, I get a mean from the four results of 8368 
feet. If this be correct, the height of the <f Saddle " 
is about 14,500 feet above the level of the sea. But 
I strongly suspect the results are a little too high 
both for the Riffelberg and for the " Saddle." 

We started down again about one o'clock. The 
snow was excessively fatiguing. It was quite 
powdery ; and the sun, which was now oppres- 
sively hot, seemed to have no power to melt it. In 

Y 2 



324 



GRAND CREVASSES. 



fact, whenever I took any up in my band, I found 
it required some length of exposure to the heat of 
the hand before it could be squeezed into a snow- 
ball. I was by this time getting very tired ; but I 
could not help turning aside to look at the grand 
crevasses we passed every now and then. One of 
them extended for hundreds of yards, with a breadth 
varying from fifty to a hundred feet : it showed, in 
long lines of horizontal stratification, the beds of snow 
of many a different year, and vast icicles hung from 
the upper edge to a depth of many feet. In another 
place, a great cliff of glacier, separating a lower 
from an upper dome, overhung the perpendicular 
by many degrees, and displayed along its face no 
less than fifteen beds of snow, belonging to as many 
successive years. By and by I was wholly unable 
to stand the pace of my fresher companions, and 
sent them on ahead, while Balmat and I followed at 
our leisure. I was glad of the gentler pace on 
another account, as it allowed me to look at many 
things for which I had not time before. The gran- 
deur of some of the rock precipices on our left 
struck me very much, and in one place it was en- 
hanced by the cebris of a magnificent " seraque," 
which had tumbled over since we had passed by in 
the morning. Presently we came upon three great 



EXHAUSTION. 



325 



crevasses, presented endways to us, and running 
parallel to one another in the direction of the Mat- 
terhorn. We fought our way through the deep 
snow to gaze into thern, and found two of them to 
be actual valleys in the ice, not less than 100 feet 
wide and 200 feet deep, one side overhanging the 
base by many feet, and with several successive rows 
of icicles depending from the softer snow at the 
top. 

The sun beat down on to these exposed slopes 
with uncommon force, and there was not a breath 
of air to take off from the effect of the burning heat 
reflected from the snow. I experienced an ex- 
haustion such as I have rarely felt. The snow- 
slopes had seemed long enough in mounting, but 
now I fancied them actually longer, and several 
times I was obliged to fling myself on my back on 
the snow, and to lie there some minutes before I 
could proceed. The great curtain above the last 
rocks appeared an ignis fatuus ; the nearer we ap- 
proached, the farther it receded. However, even it 
was reached at last, and we had a fine view of the 
rocks below, on either side, composing the barrier 
of the aperture through which the central glacier 
descends. Those on the right were gneiss, those on 
the left granite. At the bottom of this slope we 

Y 3 



326 



CUEIOUS MOKAINES. 



entered on the little defile conducting from the 
glacier to the rocks ; and just before reaching it I 
noticed a curious phenomenon which had escaped 
me in the morning. Several lines of moraine, at a 
few feet from one another, were ranged side by side 
with the nicest parallelism. We turned aside to 
examine them, and found they had all come from 
some precipices above, whence they had tumbled on 
to the glacier, and had been brought down in regular 
lines without any lateral displacement. 

There is a great difference, after all, between 
going up hill and going down hill, and, despite my 
deadly fatigue, I reached the rocks, where H. 
was waiting for me, by half-past two, and after a 
short quarter of an hour's rest and a drink of lemon- 
ade manufactured on the spot, was ready to con- 
tinue my homeward route. By the time we reached 
the Gorner Glacier, my exhaustion had so entirely 
disappeared that we prolonged our walk very ma- 
terially, by continuing on the glacier for several 
miles, and turning aside hither and thither in all 
directions to examine the numerous objects of in- 
terest it presented. A steep climb of twenty minutes 
up the side of the Gornergrat, brought us suddenly 
upon my wife, sketching and wondering where we 
could have gone; for although she had traced us 



RETURN TO THE RIFFELBERG. 327 

from eight in the morning, she had lost sight of us 
when we descended the rocks above the Gorner 
Glacier, and could never distinguish us again on its 
broad and trackless surface. A short and pleasant 
half-hour's walk and talk brought us all safely to 
the Riffelberg, where we were quietly settled by 
five o'clock, after a day of (to me) uncommon 
fatigue, but also of unusual interest. 

I was very glad, the next morning, that we had 
not taken the day's rest I had so much wished for. 
The clouds hung heavy on Monte Rosa, it was 
snowing on many of the neighbouring peaks, and 
the wind was fearful. As we sat on the Gorner- 
grat, my wife completing her sketches, and I at her 
side jotting down the outlines from which this sketch 
has been filled up, I heard it raging furiously, 
howling and screeching far above my head in the 
clear open sky, where there was nothing to provoke 
its fury. Against such a blast we should have had 
no chance of success, and should have been happy 
enough if we had met with no accident. 



THE END. 



LONDON 

PRINTED BY SEOTTISWOODE AND CO. 
NEW-STREET SQUARE 



TRAVELLERS' EDITION OF PEAKS PASSES. 

Just published, in 16mo. price 5s. M. half-bound, 

PEAKS, PASSES, AND GLACIERS 

A SERIES OF 

EXCURSIONS BY MEMBERS OF THE ALPINE CLUB. 
Edited by JOHN BALL, M.B.I.A., F.L.S., President. 

Travellers' Edition (being the Fifth), comprising all the 
Mountain Expeditions and the Maps, printed in a condensed form 
adapted for the Traveller's knapsack or pocket. 



TT has been frequently suggested 
-I- by members of the Alpine Club and 
other Alpine travellers, that an edition 
of " Peaks, Passes, and Glaciers," in 
a portable form suitable for carrying 
in the knapsack, without the coloured 
plates, but with the maps, would be a 
convenient travelling manual for ex- 
plorers in the higher regions of the 
Alps. The present edition has there- 
fore been prepared for this purpose, and 
will, it is hoped, be found an accept- 



able publication by the general 
reader, who may be glad to have this 
series of narratives of adventurous ex- 
peditions among the Swiss mountains 
brought within his reach at a more 
moderate price, although without the 
attraction of the coloured views. 

The new tariff of the Chamounix 
Guides is included in the volume, and 
will doubtless be found a useful assist- 
ance by those who carry the volume 
with them in their excursions. 



Now ready, infcp. 8vo. with Woodcuts and Map, price 4s. 6d. 

THE OLD GLACIEBS OF NORTH WALES 
AND SWITZERLAND. 

By A. C. Ea^isay, E.R.S. and Gt-.S., Local Director of the Geological 
Survey of Great Britain, and Professor of Geology in the Government 
School of Mines. Revised and reprinted from Feats, Passes, and, Glacier s t 
and forming a Guide to the Geologist in North Wales. 



" ME. RAMSAY has given us in 
this little volume a reprint of 
his contribution to Peaks, Passes, and 
Glaciers, — thus reproducing in a very 
portable form pages which will consti- 
tute an invaluable companion to the 
tourist in North Wales, where the other 
experiences of the Alpine Club would 

not be necessary to his knapsack 

The most unlearned tourist may take 
Mr. Ramsay's work and follow the 
tracks which he points out. For this 



book is not interesting alone to the 
scientific reader ; it avoids as much as 
possible the technical vocabulary of 
the geologist and mineralogist, and ren- 
ders its descriptions with a hearty and 
fluent freshness which only a genuine 
love of nature could inspire. And 
there are few travellers so unimagina- 
tive, so obdurate to the spell which the 
most poetic of mountains throws, as 
not to be set a-thinking 7nore or less in 
a speculative way by Mr. Ramsay's 
observations." John Bull,. 



London : LONGMAN, GREEN, and CO. Paternoster Row. 



LIST OF BOOKS OF TRAVELS, &c. 



s. d. 

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